


The Wee Ones

by SahadCaethlin



Series: The Wee Ones [1]
Category: The Maze Runner (2014), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternative Universe - Borrowers, M/M, Non-exhaustive list of characters and couples
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-02-26 19:31:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 82,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2663708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SahadCaethlin/pseuds/SahadCaethlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas lives in a house, or better say, in the walls of a house. He is as tiny as an USB device and lives with the things his father gets from the big ones. But they do not steal, they borrow: because they are Borrowers. But one day, the entire house comes down and Thomas is forced to run for his life. Thankfully, someone called Minho intercepts him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone, English is still not my mother tongue but I'm working with the lovely FifiB to make it agreable to read. I must say that I have not read the books yet so the description of the characters might not be like in the books: I imagine the actors and I may use characters I know from The Maze Runner fanfictions that are actually in the books (Brenda, Aris, Jorge...).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter betad by FifiB. I couldn't be more grateful! Thank you so much for proposing to beta my writing, and there was a lot of things to correct so thank you for taking the time to read and correct my mistakes. Now I feel more confident about this fanfiction! ^^ 
> 
> Hope you guys will enjoy it.
> 
> ****

It was supposed to be a day just like any other; nothing was out of the ordinary. Thomas was with his parents, ready to have a meal with them and trying for the umpteenth time to convince his father to take him with him on his next wander in the Men Land. The teenager could not understand what his parents were so afraid of or why they kept saying that he was not ready when he felt as if he had been preparing for this all his life. They were the only Borrower family in the house so Thomas could not use any other teenager as a reference, but he was pretty sure that if he had friends about his own age they would have been borrowing for years already whilst he was staying in his mother’s sight most of the time. He was not the type of child to get in trouble, or at least not trouble that he could not hide so his parents would never know. But he knew he had a kind of sin: his curiosity was all-consuming and he felt passionate about all the Men Land objects his father took back home. And he very much intended to be able to go to the Men Land before becoming an adult! So as he nearly always was, he was having an argument with his parents even before the table was all set for lunch.

But suddenly everything that was part of Thomas’ life just smashed into pieces: an incredibly loud thunderous noise pierced the air as everything trembled and crumbled. They jumped to their feet just in time to avoid a part of their roof that crashed on their table. The teen was at one corner of their kitchen, his parents on the other side of the smashed table. There was no way Thomas could reach them, he had to flee by the nearest corridor, letting his parents flee by theirs. He heard his mother yelling his name and his father ordered him to get to the sewers, promised that they would meet there. Thomas had never run so fast in his entire life, but then the house had never collapsed all around him before. He had to avoid all the debris of the walls and roof and floor falling apart. His blood was boiling in his veins and his mind was blank: the only thing he could do and think of was to run for his life and get to the sewers before being crushed or worse, buried alive. Just a few more paces! Just that! And he literally threw himself into the hole leading to the sewers. His jump lasted less than a second and his body painfully hit the ground numerous times whilst descending the irregular path. The earth was coming with him and he could not stop his fall, his body scratched and hit all the way down. He finally got in the sewers, hitting the ground so hard that the air was taken out of his lungs in a short and pitiful yelp. He just had the time to curl up into a ball before a cloud of dust and fragments fell on him. The sound of the collapsing house was muffled by the sewers’ walls and Thomas could only hear his own coughs echoing around him, struggling to breathe through his panic but desperately needing air. His ears were ringing and he felt too dizzy to get up.

“Mum? Dad?” 

His voice was hoarse, sounding almost like old paper, and he had to cough a few times to be able to call again, loud and clear.

“Mum! Dad!”

They had to be somewhere around here. They had got separated when the house caved in but they had cried for him to run to the sewers. That they would meet him there. But only the sound of the demolition and the running water of the drains were audible. Panic rose more and more inside of him, he called out again but only the silence answered him. His heart was pounding in his chest and temples like hell, sweat all over his skin. This could not be happening. Getting to his feet, he called again and again, looking around everywhere since the path he had used was now blocked, but got no answers. Only the sound of some debris falling around and muffled noises of the dying house were to be heard. His throat tightened, his eyes watering as a deaf fear got into him. He called until his voice broke, falling to his knees. Where were they? They should have been here. His father knew every inch of the tunnels through the house, so he should have found a way to the sewers. But they were not there. They were not.

A loud cry escaped from his mouth as he bent. This was not happening! It couldn’t be! His nails dug into his scalp as he pressed his forehead against the ground. He felt devastated, as if he was going crazy, not able to think straight or even think at all. He pictured his parents, the collapsing house, and cried again out of fear, despair, and hopelessness at his realisation. He was alone. He would have stayed there, all cries and tears on the trembling ground if it was not for a hard grip on his arm, strong like steel.

“The shuck are you doing?!” A voice exploded in his ears. “Run!”

Thomas did not get to protest, the stranger pulling him behind him and making him run out of that part of the drains which collapsed not far behind them. They ran for what Thomas thought was an eternity before his legs just refused to take another step and he fell hard on the dirty ground. But it did not matter. Nothing did. His head was a blurry mess.

“Hey!” The other guy shouted. “Come on! We have to move on!”

“Let go me!” Thomas snapped, trying to get his arm back.

“Later! Come on!”

And the stranger pulled him again, taking him further into the sewers. It was dark but some light came through here and there thanks to the manholes above their heads. Thomas has never been this far from their house. Where the hell was he being dragged to? Eventually the guy stopped and they collapsed, gasping for air like drowning men. Thomas could now take a look at the guy: he was about his age or probably a bit older, his skin was sort of tanned compared to his, and he had black slanting eyes and hair that gave away his Asian heredity. He looked pissed off.

“Are you shucking nuts?! Haven’t you seen that everything was caving in?! Have you got a shucking death wish or what?!”

“It was my home!” Thomas managed to reply.

He felt anger towards the guy, no, rage was more accurate, knowing he should not but he had to explode. It was too much for him to keep up.

“It was my home!” he yelled, his voice breaking. “And my parents are still in there! Somewhere! So don’t you ever think of lecturing me about anything, okay?!”

It seemed to work because the guy did not say anything for a while, just looking at him with a stunned expression. He finally sighed and spoke a little more gently after a minute or so:

“Listen... I’m sorry, okay? But we can’t stay here. It’s not safe. You don’t have to talk. Just keep following me, okay?”

Thomas felt exhausted, his face swollen from crying, but he nodded nonetheless. He did not want to think, just to sit somewhere and sleep to wake and discover that this was all a nightmare, that none of this had ever happened. Strong hands helped him up and he looked back to this guy he did not know. The boy seems to read his mind because he added:

“I’m Minho, by the way.”

“Thomas.”

“Right. Thomas. We have to go. Come on.”

And he did. They walked through the sewers for a time Thomas could not really determine; it could have been an hour or maybe a few. His head was heavy and blurry. But they finally arrived at an enlightened place that took Thomas’ breath away. A village. An actual entire village of them. His curious nature could not have helped him more in this situation to turn down his despair and let his mind wander, his eyes trying to catch everything they could see. He had never seen so many of them, the wee people. It was like they were pouring out of the alleys. There were houses and buildings all around, made of shoe boxes or plastic bins or even books. The place was lit up by table lamps here and there from which strings disappeared into the darkness of the drains, Thomas could not see where they went. It all seemed very animated which was confusing for Thomas since Borrowers’ motto was to be quiet, conscientious, and inconspicuous. But here they all were, Borrowers of all ages, laughing and chatting, screaming and playing.

Thomas could not believe what he saw. Eventually, he turned to Minho and could now see him in the full light. He was a bit taller than him and also a bit squarer, with strong arms and legs and a huge backpack. The guy was definitely made to run, jump or fight. He looked like someone you could rely on. The Asian stared back at him and gestured for Thomas to keep following him, which he did, but he was unable to stay silent.

“I didn’t know there could be so many of us...”

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know, then.” Minho said in a chuckle, leading him through the principal vein of the drains, across the little town. “Guess you don’t have anything, right?”

“Yeah...” the brunette agreed, a bitterness in his voice when thinking of the life he had only a few hours ago.

“I’ll take you to the Glade then. ‘Cuz here in Maze, you can’t live if you have nothing to exchange.” The Asian explained.

“Maze? Is it the name of this place?” Thomas asked.

“Yep. We call it like that since all the sewers run in every direction from here.”

Thomas nodded. It kind of made sense. He wondered what the Glade was but did not ask. Minho did not seem to be a very talkative person, or maybe it was because he did not know him. Instead, he followed him through the small city, stopping here and there when his saviour had to exchange things from his backpack with others. Borrowed things. He wondered why Minho did not take food instead of collecting cloves, double-sided tape and few more things like a needle, paper clips, and more that Thomas could not imagine.

“Since you’re coming to the Glade with me, be useful.” Minho said, giving him the cloves and a long rope to carry.

“Minho...” Thomas dared finally. “What’s the Glade?”

“You’ll see.”

And that was all. Thomas did not persist and simply followed the boy. They left the city behind them, going further in the darkness of the sewers and had to climb various ladders to get to the upper parts of the drains. Their walk was silent and sometimes Minho made him stop with a hand on his chest for no evident reasons, just listening to the noises. It was something Thomas did not understand. He had never really been in the sewers, never needed to plus the smell was not his favourite perfume, and he did not get what Minho was afraid of or so careful with. He could not see the light of the village anymore behind them since they had walked quite a way and turned numerous times. It was like they were walking for miles when the Asian finally stopped him in front of a ladder and murmured.

“Say hi to your new life, Glader.”

Up the ladder, Thomas could see light. But it was not an electric one, it was the outside light, like he had seen come through the manholes. The brunette hesitated and looked back at his companion who sighed and gestured for him to climb. Heart pounding, Thomas got a grip on the ladder and pulled himself up to the light, his mind racing. Where was Minho taking him to?

 

**_To be continued..._ **


	2. A new beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minho takes Thomas to a place he had never been and which will be his new home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter betad by FifiB who is faster than the light! Thank you so much for your work and efforts! <3
> 
> Enjoy your reading, guys!
> 
> ****

His heart pounding loudly, Thomas waited for his companion at the top of the ladder, not daring to pass first. He followed Minho out of the sewer and needed a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the bright light of day. Just to be left dumbfounded. The Glade happened to be a sort of camp located in front of a huge window (huge to them, because it would have been only a very small one for an average human, about a foot long) with the view of a green land. Thomas’ eyes widened.

“What is that?”

“That?” The Asian boy frowned and looked to the land. “A garden... Never seen one before?”

“No...”

And it was true: Thomas never had the right to go in the “Men Land”. He had never had to borrow anything yet because his parents were pretty protective and his father did all the work so that they had a comfortable life. He knew all the pathways through the house’s floors and walls but he’d never had the chance to glimpse through a window, even though he had always been very curious, his father and mother always made sure that he was not getting too close to the humans. They did not know he had once talked to one though, they would have had a heart attack if they knew. The thought reminded the boy that perhaps they would never have the possibility of ever having one. Minho might have seen the sadness that had come over his face because he called Thomas and took him to the encampment. It was a strange mix of a perfect mess with the amount of heterogeneous borrowed things and a very organized place. There was a place with hammocks, but also rooms built in shoe boxes or with postcards glued together. The inhabitants swarmed all around, calling each other, discussing things, playing and joking around. The place had a warm atmosphere, Thomas must admit. The inhabitants were mainly boys about his age or a little older or younger.

Minho greeted many of them, saying things the brunette could not yet understand about Borrow Raids. One of the Gladers, as they called themselves, was very happy to meet him; his name was Chuck and he was about the size of a cola cap. Minho seemed to be in charge of the Gladers since he asked Chuck for information about the last hours while he was off, mentioning new names so fast that Thomas could not remember the first one out of Chuck’s mouth. The little one seemed to be in charge of the storage, informing the Asian about new arrivals and their current supplies state.

“We got an entire slice of bread thanks to Ben!” Chuck said happily.

“Great!” Minho smiled, and it was actually the first time Thomas saw him smile, as he patted the younger’s back. “Hey, do you know where Newt is?”

“Well, he was out last night so I guess he is still in bed. He came back at six in the morning.” Chuck shrugged. “Wanna introduce him to Thomas?”

“Yeah.” The Asian nodded. “I need him to get him a place to crash. I’m not staying, plus I brought him what he wanted.”

“You know the way.” The little boy waved them goodbye and rushed somewhere else out of Thomas sight.

“Come with me.” Minho said. “You’re gonna meet our McGuyver.”

“Wasn’t he called Newt?” Thomas asked, a bit taken aback.

“God, you really know nothing of the world, do you?”

The brunette did not respond, guessing he would not die if he did not know what the hell a McGuyver was. Maybe it was this Newt’s surname or something. They went through the encampment, heading to the furthest building. It was a converse box in which they had made holes to get in and out as well as letting some light inside. A credit card was filling the biggest hole acting as a door. Minho knocked twice and entered without waiting for any word from inside, gesturing for Thomas to follow him in. A Christmas light garland was running through the roof of the box, dispatching a glow in the room that’s windows were hidden by many pieces of fabric. In the middle of the room was a matchbox filled with cotton wool in which slept a slim form with blond hair. He seemed tiny in the mound of white softness. Minho sat on the edge of the box and gently ruffled his hand into the blond strands.

“Hey, Newt... Wake up.” But when only a growl answered, he leaned down and shouted “Rise and shine!”

Newt jumped and sat in his bed, unhappiness all over his face, his hair pointing in every direction. If he could kill with a glare, Minho would have died at least fifteen times by now, but it did not seem to frighten the Asian boy enough to wipe the big smile off his face.

“Minho... Gonna bloody kill you, you know that? You better have a good reason for that!”

“Well, I guess I’m lucky I have one.” His friend smiled and gestured to Thomas. “I’ve got a newbie for you to take care of.”

“And does that require me to be woken up now?” Newt grumbled, looking up at said newbie with sleepy eyes.

Thomas felt warmness coming to his face as he turned a bit red, feeling quite ashamed to bother the blond boy who visibly only wanted to sleep. But Minho did not seem to feel at all sorry for his friend since he continued with the same tone of voice:

“Yep. I want you to take care of him.”

“Why me? Frypan or Gally could do it.” Newt mumbled, rubbing his face with his hands.

“Nope. I want it to be you.” Minho added while getting up. “I trust you to be a good instructor.”

“Wait, what?” The blonde’s eyes shot up.

“You’ll see with him. I have to go.” the Asian began to go to the door and stopped. “Oh, by the way, I've collected the few things you asked me to. Didn't find the mouse trap yet but working on it. See you.”

And he dashed out, leaving the two boys together. Newt did not seem pleased at all but he did not mention it and got out of the matchbox. He was pretty slim and tall, even if he was still a bit smaller than Thomas, but his thin shoulders seemed muscular anyway since he only wore a large tank top and long pants. All Borrower's work made from fabrics they got in the "Men Land". He stretched and looked back to his interlocutor:

“Right. What's your name, Greenie?”

“Greenie?” Thomas' eyebrows went to his hairline.

“No, that's the name I gave you not knowing yours.” Newt answered with a smirk, his mood seeming to light up as he was awakening. “But I don't mind if you wanna be called Greenie. They will probably all call you that until they remember your name anyway, so...”

“No! I mean... My name's Thomas.” The brunette managed to say without stuttering.

“Thomas.” The blonde repeated, nodding slowly as he memorized it. "Okay, so what did Minho mean by me being your instructor?"

“Er...” Thomas blushed, feeling ashamed to admit something like that to someone who seemed to be about his age and much more experienced than he would ever be. “I guess he meant... To teach me how to borrow?”

“You’ve never borrowed?” Newt did not even try to mask his surprise, raising an eyebrow.

“No, I...” the brunette gulped. “My parents never let me.”

“Right. And why don't they teach you instead of leaving it to me?”

Thomas was taken aback by this question, feeling his heart sink again at the thought of his parents. He tried to answer, his mouth opening and shutting various times but no words came from his tightening throat. His eyes began to water without him saying anything, but Newt seemed to guess, because he put his hand on Thomas' shoulder gently and squeezed it to get his attention.

“Hey. No need to explain anything. I got it. Sorry for asking. I will teach you what I know so you'll learn to survive here. With us. Okay?”

There was an uncertainty in Newt’s voice, like he wasn’t sure what to say, but at least he was trying. Thomas nodded slowly, letting out a breath he did not know he was holding. The blond boy smiled kindly, looking at him with his dark chocolate eyes which were silently saying that he was sorry; he sighed and pushed the brunette to make him sit on the matchbox.

“Here. Cry if you need to. There’s nothing shameful about it. But I guess you’d prefer to cry out of the sight of the others.”

Thomas felt grateful but did not mention it, lowering his head as the tears rolled down his cheeks. Newt did not try to comfort him, but he let him cry as much as he wanted, not asking any questions, just waiting for him to feel able to face the rest of the camp’s inhabitants. It was not that he did not want to, but it was kind of hard having only known the person for about two minutes. Eventually, he sat beside him and waited again. When the brunette did not have any more tears left to cry, the blond boy went to tear a piece of the fabric he used as curtains and plunged it in a thimble full of water. He came back to Thomas and gave it to him without a word.

Thomas nodded slightly again to thank him and rubbed his face with it. The cold water was a blessing for his swollen cheeks and eyes and he felt refreshed, his ideas a bit clearer. He had no evidence of their death and some part of him told him that they were alive. Missing did not mean dead. But was it an instinct or was it a wish? He could not tell but he breathed in and out slowly to clear his thoughts. With no evidence, there was still hope. He looked up at his host who was waiting, leant against a wall and looking outside through a hole in the curtains’ fabric, and gave him a small smile:

“Thank you.”

“No need.” Newt shrugged, looking back at him. “Feeling ready?”

“As ready as I can be.”

The blond nodded and gestured for Thomas to follow him. He thought that he might as well get used to that after Minho. They got out of the room and he had a guided tour of the encampment, beginning by the storage rooms made out of a huge orange cube. Before even asking himself what the hell it was, Thomas wondered how they managed to get this enormous thing there: it was something about thrice his size and the double Playmobil ladder on the side of it gave him an idea about the amount of work Chuck could have. He must have make a face because the chubby boy smiled wildly and explained to him that it was what humans called it a Dice CD Box (which did not really help Thomas but he preferred not to say it) and he seemed pretty proud of what it looked like.

“If you need anything: clothes, shoes, fabric, laces... Just come to me, okay? I have everything!”

“I will.” Thomas promised before running after Newt who did not wait that long.

They walked through the infirmary section where two boys greeted them: Clint and Jeff. Newt introduced them to Thomas as the two med-jacks of the Gladers. Their space was delimited by postcards stuck together, no doors, only curtains here and there. A long scarf was folded inside so the injured Gladers could sleep there and recover. Thomas did not doubt the two med-jacks skills but he promised himself to do everything in his power to never end up here.

Walking a bit further, the brunette just caught a glimpse of the hammocks he had first noticed upon his arrival. The Gladers had made a structure with pillars out of small branches, all secured to the ground thanks to blue-tack balls. He could see an arm or a leg dangling from a hammock or two. Catching his glance, Newt smiled:

“Some of us run in the Men Land during the day and others during the night. So you will get used to more or less always hearing someone snoring around there.”

“You run during the night, right?” Thomas remembered.

“Depends.” The blond shrugged. “Depends on the opportunities.”

“May I ask you something?” The brunette dared.

“Shoot.”

“Why are you the only one with a spare room and bed, when the others have hammocks?”

Newt looked at him for a second before looking away with a chuckle. Of course that greenie was going to notice that, right? He slightly shook his head and look towards the hammocks with a small but tender smile:

“The others Gladers built it for me. I had a tough night, couldn’t run anymore because of exhaustion and it was my bloody birthday. So while I was sleeping in a hammock, they built it for me. They had shucking expectant smiles, I couldn’t refuse.”

“Your “bloody” birthday?” Thomas repeated, surprised by the bitterness in his companion’s voice and he saw his smile instantly fading.

“I just don’t like to think about my birthday. That’s all you need to know about it.” The subject was clearly closed and the newbie did not want to intrude.

They went through the kitchen area and the first thing that hit Thomas was the wonderful smell that floated in the air: he did not realize it before but the rumble of his stomach left no doubt about the fact that he was starving. Newt laughed at that noise and the guy he just met, Frypan, looked down at him with a sympathetic smile before rummaging through the shelves at the back of his kitchen. He was a very tall borrower with ebony skin, square shoulders and large hands that took away all will to try to steal something from that kitchen. Newt whispered to him that Frypan took his cook rank pretty seriously and protected his territory with all teeth and knives. The tall boy came back then and handed them two plates. The blonde’s one had a piece of bread (probably the one Chuck had mentioned) with strawberry jelly on it; and Thomas’ had the same thing plus a piece of chocolate about a (borrower) fist size. The brunette’s eyes opened wide at the meal:

“Ah. All that? For me?”

“Yes. With me alive, no one will starve around here.” Frypan said, a smile on his face. “Eat, please.”

Thomas was touched. He vividly thanked the cook and followed Newt to a circle of corks; the centre of the circle was black from a recent camp fire and the corks were all around as benches where the two boys could take a seat and eat peacefully. The blonde smirked and said to Thomas that he was pretty lucky. Frypan was a good soul, no one would deny it, but it was not like him to distribute pieces of chocolate or more than the plate could contain.

They ate in silence at first, but then Newt could not miss the shadow that came over Thomas’ face and eyes. He would not ask. It was not his business and he had kind of guessed that things were not that good with the brunette’s parents. They might be dead as well, but he did not want to imagine anything that ugly, reality had its own portion of unfairness already, there was no need to encourage it. Instead, he just blurted:

“Stop that.”

“Huh? Stop what?” Thomas looked at him, puzzled.

“That.” Newt answered, chewing his bread. “Thinking. It doesn’t suit you, visibly. Don’t try too hard.”

The newbie stared at him a second before huffing a disbelieving laugh, shaking his head. But no reply came and they both started to laugh lightly. Eventually, the others would look at them with curiosity, even wonder who that new guy was, but they left them alone; Borrowers knew to be patient, they would meet the stranger when he came to them. Thomas took a bite of his piece of chocolate and handed it to Newt. It was not much but chocolate seemed to be a bit rare and he thought that the boy deserved it. After all, he did not ask him silly questions and let him have his space instead. The blonde’s face lit up with a smile as he accepted it and ate it, making Thomas wonder how long it had been since Newt’d had chocolate. It used to be a simple thing for him that his father always brought back from his coming and going and they ate some on a daily basis. Did they live near an abandoned house or something? Maybe those humans were strange folks that did not like sweets? Or maybe they were very poor? Or perhaps they were allergic?

Before he could push his pondering any further, Newt got up and invited him to follow the movement once again. They gave their plates back to Frypan and went on with their tour, heading to what the Gladers called the Workshop. It was the second biggest construction of the encampment after the storage area since the Borrowers in there did their best to produce useful tools out of human things. A boy saw them and approached, he was a bit taller than Newt and about Thomas size, but he seemed stronger with his broad shoulders and looked quite arrogant though maybe that was just because of his eyebrows’ shape. He waved at them, or, more likely, at Newt:

“Hey. What’s up?”

“Hi, Gally.” The blonde replied. “I’m giving Thomas here a little tour. Thomas? This is Gally, he is one of the best to transform the big ones’ useless things into something good for us. He is also in charge of the constructions. We call his team “the Builders”.”

“Nice speech.” Gally mused and then looked at the new comer. “Where are you from?”

“Ah...” That was a really good question indeed, he had no idea how to explain it.

“So?” The builder asked. “Near the church? The school? The pool?”

Thomas had no clue what Gally was talking about. He had not seen any church or school or pool in Maze. Was he referring to the Men Land? He had never been, how would he know? His gaze returned to Gally who was raising an eyebrow at Newt who was wondering if he should intervene or not, and he hesitated a few seconds before shrugging:

“Somewhere near Maze...”

“You don’t know shit about it.” The builder realized with a smirk, making the brunette uneasy.

“Slim it, Gally.” Newt sighed. “Just give me an extra backpack so I can teach him how to borrow tomorrow.”

“A borrower that doesn’t know how to borrow.” Gally smiled in mocking disbelief. “Well, that’s a shucking first. Maybe you could just be a slopper here.”

“I said shuck it, Gally!” The blonde snarled, visibly irritated.

Newt’s tone seemed to affect the builder who just crossed his arms with a thunderous expression on his face. Thomas did not really get it but it looked like Gally respected the slim boy. So Newt stepped into the workshop and took a backpack that he delivered into Thomas’ arms, before turning to the builder:

“And just so you remember who the second-in-command here is: you’ll be a slopper for two days.”

“What?” Gally’s eyes widened before he frowned angrily and looked at Thomas as if it was entirely his fault.

“You heard me.” Newt growled. “Thomas, come!”

And the brunette did not get to protest, hurrying after the blond boy. All the information was swirling like a storm in his head. Newt was the second-in-command in this camp? Not that it bothered him, he quite liked the guy, but Newt was not really the imposing type with his slim build, even if he looked quite scary when pissed off. He managed to stay beside the boy and cracked a smile looking at him, feeling like he should not tease him but Thomas was not the silent kind.

"Stop that."

"What?" Newt was still annoyed judging by the tone of his voice.

"That. Thinking. It doesn't suit you. Don't try too hard."

The blond did not respond at first but a smile fought it’s way to his lips and he lightly punched Thomas' shoulder, making the brunette to laugh, followed by Newt. They stopped at the Storage area where the second-in-command began to pick up some things: laces, hooks...

"You wanna ask something, don't ya?" He said without even looking up.

"Yeah..." Thomas admitted. "You didn't tell me you were that important here."

"Well, no need to make a fuss over it." Newt shrugged. "Minho is usually around so I don't have to do much. I don't like to bring it up all the time, but you know, sometimes you need to."

"Gally doesn't like me, right?" He asked, looking over his shoulder even though he could not see the Workshop.

"Gally is a stubborn slinthead. But he will come round in his own time. I've been just stupid there." The blond grumbled.

"Why?" Thomas was surprised by such self-depreciation.

"There is no available hammock and the place is full. We need to build an extension to hang one for you. But Gally won't do it for the next few days because I made a slopper of him for two days." Newt sighed, stopping his rummaging and looking up at the brunette. "Sorry, I should have thought it through..."

"Hey, no problem." Thomas smiled. "I can sleep on the floor or in the Infirmary."

"Nah." The blond shook his head. "We have our bunch of injured every day. I'll just think of something. Meanwhile you can sleep in my room."

"Newt, you don't have to-" The brunette wanted to protest but he got cut off right away.

"Yes, I have. It's my fault you have nowhere to sleep."

"Being a bit overdramatic, don't you think?"

"Realistic."

"Stubborn."

"Responsible."

"I don't even know why I'm still trying to answer back." Thomas laughed, shaking his head.

"Because you're a bloody shank." Newt smiled, getting up and handing him the backpack. "Here you go. That’s the typical Borrower's backpack. Just check it out so you know what's inside and we're going."

"Now?" The newbie asked, surprised.

"Well, wanna eat tonight?" The blond smirked, crossing his arms. "No lazy arses here."

"Got it." Thomas nodded. "Oh, Newt?"

"What?"

"What's a slopper?"

"The one that cleans everything: showers, toilets, kitchen, storage, workshop... Everything."

"Okay... He definitely hates me."

Only a laugh from the blond answered him.

 

_**To be continued...** _


	3. The Men Land

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt decides to take Thomas to the Men Land.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betad by the amazing FifiB! Thanks again for the correction and your time. I'm so glad you like this story! ^^
> 
> Hope you guys will enjoy it too. 
> 
> ****

The house was in fact much bigger than Thomas thought it was at first since it contained five flats. They went through a long and narrow corridor with grey concrete walls, the ceiling lost far away in the shadows above them. Newt took a birthday candle in a cup at the bottom of the nearest wall, holding it by the plastic end, and lit it up with a match from the box beside them. The light flickered but at least they could see their surroundings and watch out for any trouble, the fair-haired boy just had to be careful with the hot wax drops. Thomas did not like to walk with a needle on the side of his waist but Newt convinced him somehow that he would not like to meet a rat unarmed. Even with his slender frame, the blonde was a reassuring presence and his self-confidence was proof of his experience out there: he was a survivor.

He lead Thomas to a series of ladders and platforms that guided them to the first floor of the residence and then they had to climb up a succession of stairs made out of big cloves fixed to the wall. How had they managed to put them there? Thomas could not imagine and Newt told him that those cloves had been there for much longer than he had, probably long before his own birth. It was amazing to see what their people could when starting with nothing but a few borrowed things. But the most disturbing thing for the brunette was the height: if they fell, there was no point wondering if they would survive. They would simply be dead. For Thomas' sake, there was a rope running along the wall to which they attached themselves with another one passing around their waists, limiting the risk of falling. It did not stop his heart fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird, but at least he could follow Newt and put one foot in front of the other. Arriving at the next floor after ten minutes of walking or so, Newt detached them and lead the brunette through a hole in the wall. It was not very large but it was enough for the two borrowers and their backpacks to pass through without bending that much. While walking, the blonde said:

“For your first outing I'm taking you to an old woman's place. It's quite quiet and easy to break in. So don't freak out, okay?”

“Right...” Thomas nodded a bit too hastily.

Newt stopped himself in front of their tunnel’s exit and looked back at him. He had long forgot what it was like to go on the first outing in the Men Land, he himself had been going since he was a kid, but then he had been too young to be fully aware of the danger. Thomas was not, it was written all over his face and in his eyes, but he kept going nevertheless, continuing to follow despite his fear. Newt put a hand on the brunette's shoulder and squeezed it slightly, offering him a small encouraging smile.

“Everything is gonna be just fine. Just remember our sacred rule: no one is invincible. Don't ever forget that and you will survive.”

And with those words, he turned on his heels and entered the Men Land. It happened to be an immense kitchen (for them) all painted in green, in which they were standing on the white counter. All the furniture was white, giving them the sensation of a path to follow. Newt made him stop after a few steps with a gesture of his hand and listened, just like Minho had done when they were in the sewers. Thomas had never had to be so careful and it gave him another glimpse of his new life. One moment of distraction and it could be his last. So just like Newt, he listened, trying to analyse all the sounds he heard: a clock's tick tock above the kitchen door, a water drop falling into the sink, a car passing in the street, a door banging far away which was probably the neighbours, in the living room there was a bird in a cage he could see from where they stood, then a fly going here and there... But no one loud sound. It seemed to be enough for the blond as he gestured for Thomas to follow him on the white counter, hiding behind every device they found: first came the toaster, where Newt stopped him for a short pause.

“This, my friend, is a toaster.” He patted the big metallic wall at their side. “Never try to hide in it when you hear an approaching big one. Never. They use it to roast their bread, and I don't think you wanna end up fried.”

“Not really feeling like it, no.” Thomas made a face, imagining the whole scenario.

He had never seen a toaster before but the blonde’s description did not give him the tremendous will to take a closer look. He did not ask but internally wondered if the Gladers found out by observing the humans or if one of them had made the painful sacrifice. He hoped not. They continued their trek, always very careful about the noises they made or the ones they heard, and stopped behind a huge metallic device. Thomas frowned, wondering what it could be: it had a strong smell, very enjoyable, like a sweet and rich bitterness, that was unfamiliar. Newt was already climbing on gold strange buckets that were stacked one on top of another, following steel shafts up.

“What are you doing?” Thomas whispered, watching as his friend demonstrated his extreme flexibility, agility and strength.

“Collecting the holy grail, slinthead.” The blond answered, pushing the last gold form to the top where the steel shafts parted and let go of the thing. “Grab it!”

The brunette’s eyes widened; this thing was big! How was he supposed to just “grab it”? But he did not have the chance to ask to his friend, the gold thing falling straight towards him. He just about had enough time to extend his arms and catch it in its fall. It was fortunately surprisingly light for its size and Thomas was pretty happy he did not stumble as he caught it. Newt landed nimbly at his side, a large grin on his face, visibly satisfied by what he had done.

“Got scared?”

“You shuckface!” The brunette hissed, his heart pounding wildly, but a relieved smile fought his way through his lips. “You’re supposed to show me how to stay alive, not try to kill me with a heart attack.”

“Oh, come on, it was funny.” Newt snickered and patted Thomas’ back amicably. “We’re gonna take that to the tunnel before continuing: it’s bloody bulky and I don’t want to have it in the way if we need to run.”

Thomas agreed and they took it together to the hole in the wall through which they had come, hiding it inside. The blond was pretty happy, telling his pupil that Minho was going to venerate them for it: the Asian had a thing for coffee and the Nespresso caps were the best. They went back in the kitchen and continued their journey through the different devices, so Thomas could see them and learn important things like how to avoid getting trapped in them or just generally how to avoid a stupid and painful death. It was the first time Newt saw such fascination in someone's eyes, there was something intriguing and beautiful about the pure curiosity of his pupil. About an hour later, the brunette was asking questions about nearly everything and his mentor struggled to keep up with the explanations, sometimes wondering when the young man was going to ask him why they called a kettle "a kettle". But thankfully, Thomas did not go that far in his curiosity and they managed to collect a few things even if it took them twice or thrice the time Newt had expected and it was getting on his nerves. Not that he did not like to spend time with Thomas explaining the world to him, but the more time they spent in there, the more they risked seeing a big one coming, and that was not something the blond was dying to do. So when they managed to replace the battery of an alarm clock with the old one Newt was carrying in his backpack, they decided to get back to the tunnel.

It was a nice hunt nonetheless: they got the coffee, an entire drop of liquid soap they put in a Barbie shampoo bottle, a mini-dried sausage (Thomas did not believe Newt when he told him that the big ones ate that as pre-dinner: how could they? It was huge!) which was the heaviest thing they had to carry, one grape, half a biscuit and a cherry tomato. At some point the blond had the great idea to put everything they could not carry in their bags in a a handkerchief they found on the counter, each boy taking an end so they could carry it together. They got laboriously through the tunnel and, once on the other side of the wall, Newt showed Thomas a very clever mechanism with a sewing thread roll and a hook hidden in a depression in the wall; it was the Builders’ work to permit the Runners to get their borrowed things down to the basement without carrying them, which would be dangerous considering the way they came.

“Runners? Is that what you call us? The ones who go in the Men Land?”

“That's it.” The blond nodded.

“Why don't you use that to climb here?” He asked again.

“'Cuz we're too heavy for that.” Newt explained patiently. “Those things we put there, they’re all that can go down with that mechanism.”

“But what if we used a more powerful mechanism?” Thomas proposed. “Because whilst we're getting down there, rats could eat what we borrowed.”

“I think Gally is trying to make one. Maybe you two could talk that through?” The blond said, shrugging.

“Must I remind you that he doesn't like me? Like at all?” Thomas winced.

“Then I guess we will keep going on foot.” Newt smirked. “And pray there’re no rats. Even if there's only one, I'm not gonna fight for the food.”

They trekked back to the basement level which was kind of an ordeal for Thomas who thought that going down was much worse than climbing up: climbing was exhausting but the descent gave him the impression that he could fall in the chasm much more easily, at each step in fact. At some point he wondered how he could just keep up walking without vertigo. Maybe it was thanks to Newt who was walking just behind him, encouraging him with only a touch on the shoulder or a few words. It was not much since Thomas was imagining the rope breaking, him falling, Newt trying desperately to catch him... Well he did not doubt the blonde’s strength. Or maybe he did, just a bit. But even with this image in his head, he felt reassured by his mentor’s presence and when they arrived at the bottom, he even offered a hand to help him down, making Newt smirk.

“Do I look like a bloody princess to you?”

But before Thomas could pull his hand away with an excuse, the blonde grabbed it and landed swiftly at the boy’s side. He smiled at the brunette's confused look and shook his head:

“You're way too serious, man. Loosen up a bit.” He nudged him in the shoulder with a soft chuckle and turned away.

The brunette stilled dumbfounded for a second before letting a smile push its way through his lips and he followed him to give a hand. They unhooked the handkerchief and carried it together to the encampment where the other Gladers greeted them with bight, impressed smiles. Frypan was the first one to open the handkerchief and take a look inside, his mouth formed the widest smile Thomas had ever seen and he nodded towards the blonde:

“That’s a nice catch, Newt.”

“Thomas gave me quite a hand.” The second-in-command replied. “It took a bit more time than I thought, but he will definitely be a runner. Just needs some practice.”

The boys looked at their newcomer and whistled in appreciation, surprising Thomas. Was not it obvious when Newt decided to take him with him? He seemed to have proved something without even knowing it, it made him proud and also a little annoyed realising that the other boy had been testing him. But with a glance to the blonde who appeared to be smiling at him, he just smiled back and nodded: Newt recognised a runner in him and it was all he needed right now. This warm feeling of existing.

A blond borrower, tall and quite big and broody patted his shoulder as congratulations for his promotion to be. Thomas did not really understand what all the excitement was about, but when he wanted to ask to his mentor, Newt was nowhere to be found and the other Gladers were already splitting to take their prize of the day to the storage area, under Frypan’s orders. The tall blond was still at his side and was ready to go his own way when Thomas stopped him, a hand on his arm:

“Hey, sorry.” He nibbled his lower lip, a bit ashamed. “I... I don’t remember if Newt introduced us, so... What’s your name?”

“Zart.” The other answered and smiled. “And don’t you worry, Greenie, he hadn’t.”

“I... Can I stick with you a bit? I don’t know what to do around here...” Thomas admitted.

“Sure. Come with me if you want. I just have to go outside: I’m the Track-hoes keeper so that’s where I work” Zart gestured for him to follow as he walked to the window.

The brunette’s heart missed a beat: he had never been outside. And like earlier in the day, an overwhelming curiosity pulled him forward, just behind the tall boy. He did not know what a track-hoe was but he guessed he would find out pretty soon, without needing to bore Zart to tears with all his questioning. So he followed the silent giant to the nearby window, feeling a chill running through his body, not knowing if it was from excitement or because of the slight wind he felt while approaching. The garden was vast, much more than the kitchen he had seen less than an hour ago, all green and inviting more than worrying. Who knew what could become of the imposing grass?

But they went nonetheless, following the wall to where the grass was higher. Zart explained to him that it was the best place for them since the big ones could not go there with the cutting machines that could cut off grass so easily, and the vegetation made a nice hideout for their farming. Thomas believed that was what being a track-hoe meant. Why weren’t they just called farmers? He did not know but felt that it was better to accept the term. There were about five borrowers working there, collecting strawberries and mushrooms, having to cut them in order to carry them.

“You are taking everything to Frypan, right?” Thomas guessed.

“Yeah, he’s cooking like his life depends on it.” Zart chuckled.

“I guess it’s a lot of work to feed everyone here.” The brunette admitted.

“Well, tonight will be a bit special though, since it’s your party.” He shrugged.

“My what?” Thomas looked at him with wide eyes. “A party? But why?”

“Mostly to welcome you, duh.” Zart smiled. “So you can meet everyone and everyone can see you. It’s been a long time since we’ve had a Greenie here. Life is too risky here for the Maze people.”

“Why are you here if it’s so risky?” The said Greenie frowned. “Why would you want to live here if it’s safer down there?”

“Because it’s down there.” The tall blond replied with obviousness in his voice. “I need fresh air. I need to see the plants, the sky... Couldn’t live in the sewers. That’s also why Newt made me a track-hoe.”

“Newt made you?” Thomas repeated with a confused expression.

“Yeah. He has a knack for knowing which place is best for everyone. He is very observant so he kind of detects your strengths and your weaknesses, and then he decides how you can be most useful to the group of us.” Zart looked at his co-workers and shrugged. “He never gets it wrong.”

“And everyone agrees with that?” The brunette asked.

“Well, not everyone. But don’t expect a dead man to tell you what he did wrong.” And seeing his interlocutor’s baffled expression, he let out an actual giggle. “Don’t make that face, Greenie. The world is not a peaceful place. If you just keep stubborn and don’t listen to others, one day or another, you’re no more than a corpse.”

“So... Newt actually sees a runner in me?” Thomas wondered cautiously.

“Yes. He does. And a good one judging by how little time it took him to make up his mind about you.” Zart patted the smaller boy’s shoulder. “He’s not second-in-command for nothing, Greenie. Keep that in mind when you disagree with him.”

Thomas nodded and thanked the Track-hoes keeper before returning to the camp, his mind occupied by all the new information swirling around. He felt a certain pride in being seen as a runner and excitement too; there was so much that he did not know, so many things to see and smell and taste. He definitely wanted to go back to the Men Land and to explore it. He liked Zart but could not imagine living like him, only ever seeing the encampment and the vast green land. He was the kind that would get lost amongst the green just trying to explore further. And perhaps get killed stupidly by the big ones' machines that cut the grass. Maybe Newt thought that too and decided it was too dangerous for him. But Minho seemed to be the leader here, so where was he most of the time? Why was he leaving everything to Newt? Even though the encampment seemed to live by itself. Thomas decided to leave those questions be since we was not going to find any answer now on his own and walked through the camp, avoiding the workshop. Gally did not like him, so he had no reason to provoke him.

Before he could decide if he wanted to see either Frypan or Chuck, just for a chat or to see if he could help, he nearly ran into Newt. The blond had new clothes on, just as practical as the others, his damp skin and hair was a giveaway about the shower he’d just had. And the towel he had around his neck too, using it to dry his blond hair. He smiled at the brunette and nodded his head towards the room he had just left, which was made of a bean can

“You should take a shower now: the sun still hitting on the tube outside so the water still warm.”

“Huh, yeah...” Thomas looked at the bean can hesitantly.

“It’s not boiling hot. Don’t worry.” His mentor smirked. “Come with me first. Gonna see Chuck so you can have a towel and clean clothes. You smell like bloody klunk.”

“Thank you.” The newcomer grumbled, already aware that running for his life, walking through the sewers and then exploring the Men Land had not really helped him.

Newt did not respond, only smiled, and lead him back to the storage area. The chubby boy was there, sitting on a big reel of thread, concentrating on stitching a piece of white fabric with a needle almost as big as him. The two boys approached.

“Hey, Chucky.” Newt called. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Something for you.” The younger one answered.

“Something for me?” The blond repeated, raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah. It’s getting colder and you’re always out in your tank tops. You’re gonna freeze to death one day.” Chuck commented before cutting the thread he used and handing the fabric to his elder.

Newt frowned and took it, opening it to see what it was: a white hoodie with long sleeves and a pocket. Thomas was quite impressed to know that Chuck had made it, and by the look on the blonde’s face, he was pretty impressed too. He looked back at the chubby boy who stopped him from saying anything.

“I just put sleeves on it. It was already half done in our storage. Thought you might need it.”

“Well, Chucky, that’s a hell of a job!” Newt smiled. “Thanks, mate.”

“You’re welcome. What do you want? You came for something, right?” Chuck asked.

“Oh, yeah. Could you give Thomas a towel and fresh clothes?”

“Sure.”

The boy went into the big orange Dice CD Box, leaving the two others outside. Newt just put his new hoodie on, sinking his hands in the front pocket, a content look on his face. He looked up at Thomas and smiled with all his teeth.

“Jealous?”

“What? No.” Thomas countered.

“I’d be too if I wasn’t me, don’t worry.” The blonde teased him with a smirk, and looked back at Chuck coming back. “Hey, Chucky, it’s awesome, thank you! Oh, and do you have two cotton squares?”

“Sure, coming right back!” And with that, the boy disappeared again.

“What do you need cotton squares for?” Thomas asked, raising an eyebrow, and Newt’s shit-eating grin told him he should not have asked.

“’Cuz you didn’t really think you would sleep in my bed tonight... Did you, Greenie?”

 

**_To be continued..._ **


	4. The Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gladers throw a great party for Thomas and Newt is getting a bit more protective as he feels how fragile the boy can be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betad by the amazing FifiB!
> 
> The songs mentionned in the text are the following if you want to hear them while reading:  
> "Kerosene" - from The Exchange  
> "Not while I'm around" - from the musical Sweeney Todd.
> 
> *******

“’Cuz you didn’t really think you would sleep in my bed tonight... Did you, Greenie?”

Thomas felt like his face was on fire, suffocating with embarrassment, which seemed to be extremely funny judging by the blonde’s response. Newt actually doubled over, laughing the air out of his lungs. Even Chuck seemed pretty surprised when he arrived, watching the second-in-command holding his midsection, still laughing, then staring at the brunette, clearly wondering what he had done. Newt took the cotton, still laughing, and left for his room, leaving the other two boys dumbfounded.

“What have you done to him?” Chuck asked, frowning almost accusingly.

“Nothing!” Thomas answered hastily, feeling his ears heating up as he stiffened at the smaller boy’s frown. “I swear!”

He decided to leave and go take his shower. He had quite a feeling about this party coming... The problem was he did not know if it was a bad one or a good one.

***

The night had fallen a couple of hours ago and the party was getting started. Thomas could not have imagined that there were so many people in the Glade, guessing that everyone had decided to stick around tonight, instead of completing any collecting missions in the Men Land. Frypan had prepared an incredible amount of food that was now presented as a buffet, no one having to serve, just everyone flying to whatever appealed to them: green peas, dry sausage, cheese... Thomas picked a green pea which was the size of his head, but it was warm and felt good between his hands. Sitting in a corner, he bit into it, savouring the taste that made him frown. He had eaten green peas many times before but it had never tasted like this. It was delicious. Now he could understand why Frypan was in charge of cooking. He was about to take another bite when he heard a voice he knew all too well.

“A green pea for a greenie? Are you into cannibalism?”

Gally stood in front of him, arms folded, looking at him with his thunderous eyes and a smirk Thomas wasn’t exactly fond of. Swallowing his mouthful of pea, he sighed deeply and replied:

“What do you want, Gally? Feeling like you have a sense of humour today? Not a fan, sorry.”

The taller boy glared at him and the brunette was almost expecting a kick or something, but nothing came before a loud excited cry echoed throughout the encampment, catching their attention. A group of Gladers were carrying a large, dark device in an arch shape, followed by another group carrying a flat orange rectangle. Thomas frowned, wondering what it could be when he saw Newt heading straight for him, a large smile upon his face. His skin was damp with sweat, his blond hair was a messy golden halo on his head demonstrating that it had been quite a physical strain carrying the thing. Not seeming to sense the heavy atmosphere between the two boys, or just choosing to totally ignore it, he landed beside Thomas:

“Hey, what you doin' sitting here, shank? You're our guest of honour!”

“Newt, what is that thing?” The brunette asked staring at the device the others were installing not so far the campfire.

“This? It's an iPod!” The blond replied with a grin.

“What's an iPod?” Thomas frowned, now looking at him.

“Something super cool. We got it few days ago but only used it for an hour so it still has battery. Come on, get up!”

Not letting his pupil finish eating his pea, Newt pulled him to his feet and dragged him to a spot beside the campfire. He asked Thomas to pick a number between one and ten and screamed the four the brunette gave him. Jeff smiled and jumped four times on the right side of the white circle on the device, and then once on the bottom. The headphones spit out the music loud and clear for the Borrowers: they were so tiny they could easily hear very quiet sounds, so putting the device on maximum volume was like they were literally running an open-air nightclub. Jeff was all smiles as he began to sing along to the music, the others watching him as if at a gig:

_“All we’ve got_

_Is us tonight,_

_And all we want_

_Is in our sights._

_Let’s make a toast_

_Hope for the most_

_Let’s light it up tonight!_

_Light the match,_

_It’s your turn._

_Toss it out,_

_Watch it burn._

_Let’s make a toast_

_Hope for the most_

_Let’s light it up tonight!"_

He jumped from the iPod and walked around with the others clapping hands in rhythm. Thomas was dumbfounded but a smile began to spread on his lips as he watched the med-jack dancing and singing with the music, many other Gladers starting to dance too. Frypan appeared then at Jeff's side and took it upon himself to continue the singing, clapping his hands to the beat while moving his hips:

_“Oh yeah I feel the heat,_

_It’s burning up my throat, yeah_

_It’s coming close_

_But still I want some more!_

_I forgot the time_

_It’s the middle of the night, yeah_

_The sun went down, yeah_

_All I see is bright!"_

Thomas was fascinated by the happiness inhabiting every single Glader (except Gally but he was nowhere to be seen, not that Thomas cared anyway). They knew how to put everything aside and just have fun and party. Probably because they were all around the same age, except for the odd few like Chuck who were a bit younger but partying nonetheless. What Thomas did not expect was Newt to stop in front of him, extending his hand towards him whilst singing, a bright smile glowing under his mischievous dark eyes:

_"You be the kerosene_

_And I will be your fire!_

_You be the fuse that’s lit_

_And I will be your dynamite!_

_You be the kerosene_

_And I will be your fire!_

_I will be your fire_

_Fireeeeee!"_

And with that, the blond took Thomas’ hand and pulled him into an energetic dance. The brunette's heart had skipped a beat at first but a smile spread back across his lips and he willingly followed his mentor into the dance. They were pretty close, eyes locked, and for the first time since that morning, Thomas felt like he could let his brain just stop thinking, allowing himself to enjoy the moment, to have fun. The others were dancing too all around them as if the entire encampment was one giant dance floor. Another borrower had monopolised the lyrics but the brunette did not really pay attention to the song since the music had slowed and Newt had, voluntarily or not, made his movements sensual to suit the music. He had moved closer to Thomas and, without touching, he was leading the dance, a smile still pulling on his lips, like a hypnotic snake. That was when they were sandwiched by Frypan behind Thomas, and Jeff and Zart behind Newt, crushing them together as the cook almost cried the lyrics:

_“Oh yeah I feel the heat_

_It’s burning up my throat, yeah!_

_It’s coming close_

_But still I want some more, yeah!_

_I forgot the time_

_It’s the middle of the night, yeah!_

_The sun is down, yeah!_

_All I see is bright!"_

They were totally crushed one against the other, dancing with everyone, almost painfully smashed together sometimes, but they were laughing out loud. They did not even try to fight the movement, their hips moving together, the heat colouring their faces. Thomas felt his skin just as damp with sweat as his friend, but it was like a warm and funny cocoon, causing a delicious shudder that ran all through his body as their hips bushed together. The two boys’ eyes locked, sharing a knowing glance, and screamed the chorus lyrics with the others, their two faces only separated by thin air:

_“You be the kerosene_

_And I’ll be your fire!_

_You be the fuse that’s lit_

_And I will be your dynamite!_

_You’ll be the kerosene_

_And I’ll be your fire!_

_I will be your fire!_

_Fireeeeee!"_

The pressure around them disappeared and they could laugh and breathe again without stopping their dance at all, their bodies pressed together as the song slowed again. They were cradled by Frypan's voice once more, soft and melodic, with their foreheads one against the other. Newt sang along again with Frypan, just a few words here and there. Then the smiles returned to their lips as the inevitable chorus was coming once more and they separated to dance with all the others in a happy mess, crying the lyrics as loud as they could, jumping more than dancing.

Just as the music ended, they fell to the ground like five or six others, laughing their lungs out. Another song began and Thomas got up, offering Newt his hand to help him, and they went to the side of the dance floor, deciding to take a minute or two to catch their breath. They exchanged a glance and found themselves smiling to each other, huffing a little laugh, before Chuck arrived with a glass made out of a leaf rolled in a cone, full of a strange golden liquid. Thomas frowned but Newt took the glass with a smirk:

“You didn't drink any, right, Chuck?”

“No!” The boy rolled his eyes. “I know I'm not allowed to.”

“Why?” Thomas asked, not getting it.

“He's too young to drink alcohol.” Newt explained before handing him the glass. “Here. Put some hair on that chest.”

The brunette raised an eyebrow and took the beverage. He had never drank alcohol but did not want to look like a coward, so he brought the glass to his lips, the strong smell already assaulting his nose. He wrinkled it but raised the glass nonetheless and drank. The taste was awfully strong, burning his throat. What the hell was that? He spat it out on the ground, choking and coughing under Newt's and Chuck's amused grins. The blond took the glass to avoid Thomas filling it with vomit, but the brunette did not need to, just letting out a disgusted wince

“Oh my God! The shuck is that?”

“To be honest, I don't even know.” Newt admitted, looking at the beverage. “It’s Gally's recipe. It’s a trade secret.”

“Yeah, he's still an asshole.” Thomas groaned.

His mentor did not try to correct him, just slowly drinking the beverage without even pulling a face. It looked like he was used to it, Thomas made a face but did not comment, just wondering how far someone could go into self-harm like that. Chuck went back to the party, leaving the two boys together so they could have a little chat. Newt did not wait before asking

“So, how is it going so far for you? Liking the Glade?”

“Quite a bit, yeah. Thanks to you.” The brunette smiled.

“Me?” The second-in-command raised an eyebrow, visibly surprised.

“Don't play the innocent. You took care of me right away. Thanks, Newt, I couldn’t be more grateful.”

The blond gazed at Thomas for some time before a smile pulled gently at his lips and he looked away, apparently pretty touched by Thomas’ words. The party went on, each boy visibly doing his best to be the dumbest of all, inventing games, each more stupid than the previous one, and all of them were more than willingly participating. They even started to have a food fight before being terribly scolded by Frypan, but not before getting stains in a range of colours. Newt’s white hoodie was now more green and orange and Chuck would have been very upset by that if he was not one of those who had attacked him. Thomas felt good in this atmosphere, safe and sound. He felt like something he had never quite felt with his parents: a boy. All of them were acting very serious during the day, taking responsibilities, working hard for the group, but in the end, they were just boys, like him. And even if it had only been one day, he already felt quite attached to them. Zart took advantage of Thomas’ distraction to flatten a handful of jelly on his face. Frypan had to stop another war and he was indeed frightening enough to do so.

They danced and sang and played and ate until two in the morning. When the music went off along with the iPod’s battery it was kind of the signal that the party was over. Most of them were wasted anyway, many passed out near the dying campfire, others here and there. Thomas and Newt decided to call it a night and headed back to the blonde’s room where the brunette could discover his friend’s work: aside of the matchbox Newt used as a bed, the two cotton squares were on the ground like a comfortable mattress, a handkerchief was folded multiple times to make a cushion and the blonde had used a cuddly toy’s flat ear as a cover. Thomas stood dumbfounded in front of this bed which looked very comfortable and soft, he was brought back to reality by his mentor’s voice.

“So? What do you think? Good enough for you?”

“You’re kidding?” The brunette asked, and smiled when he saw a doubt passing over Newt’s face for a second. “It’s fantastic. Thank you!”

A bright smile appeared on Newt’s lips as he watched his friend jumping on the bed and letting out a sigh of contentment. He climbed into his own bed, taking his pyjamas from the corner of the box, which consisted of a grey oversized t-shirt and black knee length pants. Thomas did not have pyjamas but the blonde promised him they would find him ones the next day as he went to the opposite side of the matchbox and put all his weight on the switch of the garland to turn off the light. Thomas never really liked the dark because he had too vivid an imagination and any noise could spark the creation of an entire scenario in his head. But there, with Newt near him, his breathing, the muffled sounds of the encampment, he felt good. Like he was in a nest.

“Can I tell you something, Newt?”

“Hm?” The blonde’s voice was already sleepy.

“You know... You’re gonna laugh but since I got here, I just... It’s like Minho said: I know nothing of the world.” Thomas murmured. “I feel really small.”

“Well, you are small. You’re what? 2, maybe 3 human inches?” He could not see him in the dark, but he could hear the smile in the blonde’s tone.

“I’m not talking about my height, slinthead!” The brunette laughed softly, before chewing his bottom lip. “But... You know... I feel ignorant.”

“But you’re very curious, so it won’t last. Believe me. You nearly killed me with questions this morning.” Newt groaned.

“Sorry.” Thomas felt his face turning red and was grateful the room was dark enough to hide it.

“Not asking for you to be sorry, shank.” He heard his mentor’s voice more distinctly and supposed that the blonde had rolled on his side to talk to him. “No one needs to be a bloody encyclopaedia to survive. No one was born like that. You will learn, stop putting yourself down. Look, if it comforts you, I didn’t know this thing was an iPod before yesterday. I just read what was written on it’s back.”

They chuckled and Thomas finally agreed to stop depressing himself so they could wish each other good night. Newt did not last long, visibly needing to catch up on the sleep he had been deprived of the night before. The brunette was exhausted too so he let the even breath of his friend to cradle him into sleep.

****

_A wonderful smell called him out of his room, leading him to the kitchen from which he could hear the noise of his mother cooking. As he approached, he heard her humming a soft, nice song. A smile pulled at his lips as he arrived._

_“Hey mum. What are you cooking? Smells good.”_

_His mother looked up at him with a smile before looking back at her hands, still humming. Well, it would be a surprise then. A few steps were audible and Thomas knew it was his father coming back from the Men Land and excitement rose in him: he always came back with treasures. The door opened and the boy greeted his dad with a large smile. But as soon as he tried to go to him, a thunderous noise exploded. Thomas froze, just like his parents, looking at them with fear. And the roof came down._

_Thomas jumped back to avoid debris, stepping away from his parents. He heard his mother scream his name and looked at her. She was with his dad, he was pulling her back to another corridor so they did not get smashed. He cried to them before having to flee. The sewers, he had to get there! He ran, as fast as he could, seeing the corridor flying past him. Then he was in the drains and he turned back, to look at the corridor. Rocks had fallen and closed the way, and under one of them, he saw a hand. His mother's hand._

****

At first, Newt did not know why he had awakened so early: the day was just chasing away the night, a small amount of light visible around his curtains. It must have been around four or five in the morning. But then he understood, hearing the shuddering breath of his roommate, he straightened up a bit, getting on his elbows to get a glimpse of the brunette. Thomas was moving in his bed, almost jumping sometimes, and he was whispering in his sleep. Definitely a nightmare. Newt sighed and got himself out of his bed to approach his pupil, frowning at the sight of his face. Even with the very slight luminosity, he could see the boy grimacing, as if in pain.

“Hey, Thomas...?” He called, putting one knee on the ground. “Hey, Greenie, are you alright?”

At the exact moment he put his hand on the brunette's shoulder to shake him out of sleep, Thomas jumped and screamed. Newt nearly fell on his back, blinking at him with wide eyes, startled for a moment, looking at the boy panting with tears running down his cheeks. Thomas’ eyes were wide open showing his terror, he was shaking his head, his hands clutching his head with his fingers trying to dig into it. With another sigh, the blond approached his friend again and took his face in his hands:

“Hey, Thomas. It's me. Newt. It's over, mate. That was a nightmare. Just a nightmare. Calm down.”

“They are dead...!” The brunette whined, not able to speak loud and clear as he began to sob. “They are dead! The rocks crushed them! They didn't make it out the house!”

Newt was a bit taken aback at first and remembered the talk they had about Thomas’ parents when he met the boy the day before. He did not know what had happened to them but guessed that Thomas was talking about them. Gently, he took the brunette in his arms, pressing against him in a hug, feeling the other boy trembling and hiding his face in his neck, hugging him back with force. He cradled him softly:

“Shhh... Shhh... It's over. It's over, Tommy.” He did not know where that nickname had come from but it was all that came to mind when seeing the brunette like that, as fragile as a child. “I got you, Tommy. It will be alright.”

He could feel the tears of his friend against his neck, his warm shuddering breath caressing his skin and sending shivers down his spine. He swallowed slowly and, not knowing what to say, he just cradled the boy, rocking back and forth, murmuring a song he had once heard in the Men Land.

_“Nothing's gonna harm you..._

_Not while I'm around._

_Nothing's gonna harm you, no sir,_

_Not while I'm around.”_

He did not know all the lyrics, only the beginning with two choruses, and he slowed down the melody, just to calm the boy in his arms. His voice was low, caressing, and he angled his head to the side so that it was against Thomas', feeling the shudder getting weaker, hearing the sobs fading.

_“Demons are prowling everywhere,_

_I'll send'em howling,_

_I don't care, I got ways.”_

Thomas inhaled deeply, calming down. Newt did not hear another sob or sniff, so he guessed the brunette was getting himself together. He delicately pulled away, so he could press his forehead against his and look into his eyes, a gentle smile on his lips.

_“No one's gonna hurt you,_

_No one's gonna dare._

_Others can desert you,_

_Not to worry, whistle, I'll be there.”_

The smile grew wider as he continued softly with the melody, staring at the other boy with tenderness and wanting to see a smile back on his face.

_“Hope you are getting better soon_

_'Cuz I don't_

_Know the rest...”_

They chuckled and Thomas slightly shook his head before looking again at the dark brown eyes of his friend. He murmured a faint thank you and rested his forehead on Newt's shoulder.

“You have a beautiful voice. And you sing well.”

“Stop with the flattering.” The blonde smirked. “Come on, get back to sleep. I got you.”

And saying this he pulled the brunette a bit more against him, allowing him to nuzzle his face in his neck, and pushed the both of them onto the bed. Arranging the cover over them with one hand, he rested his head on the pillow and let his fingers run through the hair and down the back of his friend, whispering slowly like a lullaby.

“Close your eyes, Tommy. Sleep. I got you...” 

He felt the boy relax in his arms and smiled as he felt the breath against his neck even out. Newt felt goosebumps appearing on his skin and he allowed himself a small smile before closing his eyes, cradled in a warm and soft cocoon. His consciousness trembled and he allowed himself to slip in the sweet darkness of sleep.

 

**_To be continued..._ **


	5. Jealousy and apologies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Found this quote that summarises well this chapter:
> 
> "The jealous are troublesome to others, but a torment to themselves." William Penn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betad by FifiB! Thank you so much for the amazing job! ^^
> 
> ****

When Thomas woke up, the bright luminosity filtering through the curtains told him that he had overslept. He pushed himself up onto his elbows and looked around. He was alone, well covered by the cuddly toy's ear and everything was tidy. He shook his head slightly and pressed his hands against his eyes. The night before was a blur but he remembered the nightmare, the fear and the despair. But Newt had taken care of it. He had cuddled Thomas, sang for him, and cradled him to sleep. The brunette felt his face heat up with embarrassment as he remembered sobbing and crying like an underage kid. Angered by his own weakness, the young man got up and left the room. The encampment had already been tidied from the party the day before, only the ashes from the campfire remained but not for much longer as Gally and another boy were taking care of it.

Thomas decided to avoid any confrontation with the Builders' keeper, his mind still hazed with sleep. He headed to the kitchen area where Frypan greeted him with a smile and a plate of bread and jelly.

“Well, good morning, Greenie. I was starting to think that Newt had left you to die from your hangover.”

“No, I'm fine... What time is it?” Thomas asked, already stuffing half the bread into his mouth and not bothering asking what a hangover was.

Frypan took a look at the watch near the stove (which was actually almost the same size as the stove) before informing him it was almost eleven o'clock. A pang of shame rose in the brunette as he thought that he was probably the last one to wake up in the encampment. Why hadn’t Newt woken him up? And where was he? Not that he really wanted to face him after the way he had shown himself up during the night, but he wondered where the blonde had gone. Once he had finished his breakfast, he offered to wash the dishes for Frypan, which the cook really appreciated since it took the brunette almost half an hour to complete the task. Thomas hadn't expected to find so many plates but wouldn’t refuse after offering his help.

By the time he finished, he could hear loud chatter from the encampment, mostly greetings and screams of joy. He exchanged a look with Frypan and the two of them went to the passage the runners used to get to the Men land. There, Thomas saw a chocolate egg about the size of a human fist rolling towards them. The other Gladers ran after it and Newt appeared from behind the egg, all sweaty but with a large smile, laughing along with another Glader who also wore a runner’s backpack. Evidently, they had gone to the Men Land together and had brought back this golden chocolate egg. To Thomas that realisation felt like a slap. Why didn't Newt wake him up so he could have helped? Why hadn't he been asked to accompany them since he had to learn how to borrow? His lips were set in a thin line as he watched the two runners laughing and visibly very proud of their findings as the other Gladers were applauding. Newt saw him and waved a hand to salute him, but frowned when Thomas did not respond, not even with a smile. Seeing him turn on his heel and head towards the garden's window, the blonde raised an eyebrow and excused himself before following his roommate wondering what was up with him. There hadn’t been a problem a few hours ago...

Newt wondered if something had happened during his absence, something he should be aware of as second-in-command of the Glade. He caught up with the brunette at the window where he had sat down, in a visibly dark mood. The blond stopped at his side, looking down at him.

“Hey, Tommy...” He used the same nickname he had used during the night, as if to appease him. “What's wrong?”

“Why didn't you wake me up?” Thomas blurted.

“What?” Newt's eyebrows shot up to his hairline, startled. 

“Why didn't you wake me up this morning so I could go to the Men Land with you? You're supposed to be my instructor.” Thomas did not look up at him, his jaw moving nervously.

“I thought you should have a rest after the night you had...” Newt replied, not quite believing that he was actually justifying himself. He didn't even know why he was doing this, so he just smiled, a bit unsure, and tried to lighten the mood with teasing. “You were crying and whining all night long.”

Maybe it wasn't the best idea he’d ever had because the brunette suddenly got up, giving him a hard glare. What had he done to deserve such a look? Newt was lost, staring at his friend with total incomprehension. Thomas turned so he stood directly in front of the blond.

“Crying and whining? You have no idea what it is like to wonder if your parents are dead or alive! You know nothing of it!”

Newt stood there, blinking. It was obvious that Thomas regretted his words as soon as they came out. It was written in his eyes and all over his face. This was not the reason he was angry with him, that much the blonde could tell and he wondered why his friend had to explode. He genuinely did. But at the same time, he felt a strong feeling of irritation burning inside of him. Thomas could be down, angry, even furious, but he had no right to be so aggressive with him, no right to talk to him like that. So Newt did what he had always done in such circumstances: he did not yell nor lose his temper, he straightened, an expressionless mask covering his face, even if his eyes spoke of disdain.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“Newt...” Thomas tried to speak but the blonde did not want to stop there.

“You’re right when you say that I don’t know what it’s like.” His eyes were hard, his body stiff.

“Newt, I...” The brunette tried again, visibly alarmed.

“Because I saw them die.” Newt finished. “So I never had to wonder. I already knew. So, yeah, you’re bloody right.”

Thomas froze, looking at his mentor with wide eyes. The calm in Newt’s voice was worse than any yell. His tone was as cold as ice. And deep inside, Thomas knew he had deserved it. Why had he said such things? He knew nothing of Newt’s life. And even if he knew the boy, he had no right to treat him like that, no reason. So he guiltily dropped his gaze to the ground, his brain working like crazy to find something to say, an excuse to present. But the second-in-command was faster.

“Now, if you want to be useful, Thomas, go help Zart. He always needs help with getting water and fertilizer.”

Thomas looked back up at him, only to lock eyes before Newt turned around and walked away, leaving the brunette with his misery. Thomas sighed and slapped himself while going to the Track-hoes garden, still wondering why he had been angry in the first place. Because it was not like Newt had to look after him 24/7, he had accepted Minho’s demand but had no obligation towards him, plus he had been kind enough to offer him a place in his room. Thomas definitely felt upset with himself. How could he have been so ungrateful and stupid?

Arriving at the sight of Zart, he just asked what he could do to help and nothing more. The Track-hoes' keeper explained everything to him from where were the buckets to where to go to find the fertilizer and where the water tank was. Thomas was grateful that the guy let him work without asking anything so he could concentrate on the task and fight his own internal demons. The buckets, once filled with water, were incredibly heavy and he needed twice the time the other Track-hoes used to go to the tank and back to the garden. He was definitely not used to that kind of work, but he did not complain and did his share of the job. After two hours of walking to the tanks and back, Zart finally talked to him when he set down the buckets.

“Hey. What's the matter? You look like someone dumped you.”

“What? Oh, no... Nothing like that...” Thomas shook his head. “I've been a dickhead.”

“Wanna talk about it?” The tall blond beside him, giving him a sideways glance.

“I yelled at Newt for no reason... I don't even know why I was so angry...” Thomas mumbled.

“When did that happen?” Zart asked, but from his little smile, it was crystal clear that he had something in mind.

“Just before I came here. He sent me to you. I got angry just after he came back of the Men Land with that guy.” The brunette sighed. “And he came to me asking why I was angry and I just yelled at him because he's supposed to teach me how to be a runner but I know I had no right 'cuz he doesn't owe me shit. And I yelled about something that had nothing to do with it and I just wanna hit myself right now because I was so shucking unfair.”

Zart, who had been watching Thomas as he talked, nodded slowly after Thomas finished with a small smile as if he had understood something during the young man's complaining. He patted him on the back.

“I think I got it.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, give me a hand, will you? 'Cuz I'm lost.” Thomas grunted.

“Sure.” The Track-hoes' keeper smiled fondly. “Before coming here, you were alone, right? Just with your mom and dad.”

“Yeah, just the two of them.” The runner frowned, not sure of what his interlocutor was talking about.

“So, you never had friends your own age, right?” Zart asked, and when the boy nodded, he continued. “Then that's your problem, my friend: you're jealous.”

“Jealous?” Thomas repeated, dumbfounded.

“Yeah. You have the body of a teenager but the emotional maturity of a kid. That's why you don’t get it. Your mind can’t comprehend the reason but your heart is screaming indignantly about the fact that Newt went in the Men Land with someone other than you. The other guy is Ben, by the way. He is usually Minho's co-runner.”

“I...” The brunette did not know what to say to that, trying to answer with something, anything.

“In fact, it’s not just about the Men Land, it’s Newt having fun with someone else that annoyed you.” The tall blond patted his shoulder. “Think it through.”

Thomas obeyed, trying to look back at what happened. When had he become angry? Then it hit him like a rock: it was when he saw Newt smiling and laughing with Ben. That was when he had literally lost control of himself. He felt the heat as the blood rushed to his face, ashamed of being so childish. Zart laughed and patted him in the back again, so strongly that he almost shot one of his lungs out of his ribcage.

“Come on, man. It's no big deal. Now that you know, you can do something about it.”

“But I've been a shucking dickhead, Zart. What am I supposed to do? He won't listen to me if I try to apologise!” Thomas begun to feel despair, but he hadn’t counted on the Track-hoe’s advice.

“Well, if he won't listen. Then show him.”

***

Newt had done his little tour of the encampment just to see if everything was in order. Minho was not back yet so everyone would come to him when there was a problem or a question. He also had to help in the storage area where they had found they had a problem with perishable borrowed stuff; they had to throw away a certain amount of food, which was a real problem. It was some rotten fruit that had contaminated the rest. They would have to go back to the Men Land earlier than originally planned and Newt did not like the idea of sending the runners up there with the clear order to grab as much food as they could. It was giving them more responsibility and he was afraid that they would become careless, too concentrated on the food to look out for themselves properly.

When going to the garden to throw the last remain of rotten fruit, he looked at the Track-hoes' workplace and frowned. The greenie was nowhere to be seen. How could this be? He was supposed to help Zart. The second-in-command felt irritation boiling in his blood, he washed his hands at the water tank and headed back to the Track-hoes' keeper, calling him as soon as he was in sight.

“Zart!”

“Oh, Newt. Hi.” The taller blond smiled. “How are you?”

“Where's the greenie?” Newt blurted without answering his friend's question. “He was supposed to help you!”

“Oh, him.” The Track-hoes' keeper shrugged. “Well, he had something to catch in the Men Land. So I let him go.”

“What...?” The blonde felt the blood leaving his face as an icy chill went to the back of his neck. “Wait, he's just a bloody greenie and you let him go alone in there?”

Zart opened his mouth but Newt didn't wait for an answer and dashed right away to the storage area, calling for Chuck. As soon as the younger showed up, he sent him to get a runner backpack for him, preparing in a hurry. Alarmed by the frantic tone of their second-in-command, other Borrowers came to him, Frypan first.

“Hey, what's happening?”

“The greenie shucking went to the Men Land on his own. I'm gonna go after him.” Newt explained briefly as he put the backpack on his shoulders and did up the straps over his chest for a better support.

“Told you that this shank was gonna be a pain in the ass.” Gally grumbled.

“Slim it, Gally, not the time for that.” Ben looked at the blonde with genuine concern. “Want me to go with you?”

“No. With the rotten fruits problem, I won't take any more runners with me. You guys focus on the food problem and I'll focus on the greenie.”

“Call him Thomas, for shuck sake!”

Everyone looked up startled at Chuck who was glaring severely at them. He had never spoke up that angrily before and as it was a first, he got attention of all his elders. He shook his head and muttered.

“If he dies, I don't wanna remember him as just “the greenie”. Call him by his name at least now. His name is not even on our wall yet.” His voice broke as he spoke.

Chuck had got attached to Thomas pretty fast even if they did not spend a lot of time together and his eyes were watering as he was speaking, looking fiercely at the other Gladers. For him, there was no way Thomas could be dead, he believed in him, but he had also seen many deaths around here. Newt smiled sheepishly and patted his shoulder.

“You're right. So I'm gonna bring him back, okay? I'll come back with Tommy, don't worry.”

“Tommy?” Chuck repeated.

“Yeah, Thomas, whatever.” The blonde shrugged, not looking at the others as he felt his cheeks blushing, trying to look like he was checking himself before going. “Well, if we are not back before nightfall, don't send anyone after us. Same rules as normal. The keepers take care of everyone until Minho or myself get back. Okay?”

“You're gonna get back.” Ben said hastily.

“You hope.” Newt grumbled. “I'm going. Don't you dare do anything stupid. I have enough with one shucking slinthead.”

And with that he went to the passage, dashing into the darkness with a candle lit in his hand. He ran through the stairs and ladders, hurrying as much as he could. Why had Thomas gone to the Men Land alone? Had he misjudged him? No, Thomas definitely had the qualities of a runner. But a runner to be. He was not ready and Newt felt guilty about it. He should have looked after the brunette. He knew the guy had kind of an innocent mind, like a kid. It was as if he could not understand how dangerous things could turn out to be. He managed the trip faster than the usual, arriving out of breath at the first floor, he had to stop for a few seconds before running again. In his world, a few seconds could make the difference.

He first headed to the old woman’s flat. It was the only one he had visited with Thomas, so he hoped the brunette had chosen this one to go on his own. He went through the hole in the wall and waited a bit before the entrance, still in the shadows, all ears. It was not the time to be seen by any random big one if Thomas was in trouble. Hearing nothing, he stepped into the light of the kitchen and looked for his friend.

“Tommy?” he whispered. “Tommy are you there?”

He got no response. But maybe Thomas was unconscious. Or worse. Newt shook his head, mentally slapping himself: he shouldn't think like that. Never. He quickly had a look on the counter and when he was sure that the greenie was not nearby, he took a hook out of his backpack and thread. Attaching them together, he secured the thread and hook, using them to throw himself off the counter. It was always making his blood run fast through his veins with adrenaline, always preparing for the moment where the thread would get to its end and stop him brutally just a few centimetres off the ground. Nine or ten normally, which was already a good high for the Borrowers. He cut the thread and landed softly on the ground, listening again to his surroundings. No Borrower healthy in his head liked to be on the ground when running through the big ones' world and Newt was a pretty healthy one. He did not like it at all since there were fewer places where he could hide if someone came and even if he could hide, there was still the imminent risk of him being smashed by a shoe, a bag or any other big one's thing. Plus all the furniture left an incredibly large amount of blind spots from which the danger could take you by surprise. So when he knew the path was clear, he ran to the next room: the living room.

It was incredibly large for him compared to the kitchen. He ran until he reached a low table's foot and then called again for his friend and this time he heard Thomas’ voice replying. Judging by the volume of it, he was at the other side of the room and yelling something Newt couldn't get but hissed at; that slinthead was going to get the attention of the entire flat at this rate. He dashed again through the different elements of the room and then he saw him when stopping just in front of an armchair, the brunette was halfway out of a hole in the wall near the decorative chimney, gesturing fiercely at him. Thomas' face was a mix of horror and anger as he was pointing something above him, and then Newt heard him, loud and clear this time.

"WATCH OUT FOR THE DAMN CAT!!"

The flow of his blood paused for an instant and then rushed crazily through his body as he broke into a desperate run. The cat landed where he had been less than a second before and threw his paw at him. Newt didn’t even know how he had avoided it but didn’t want to stay to think about it and ran toward Thomas. He had fled more than a few times in his short life but never had he felt his body burning so much from the effort and fear and adrenaline, his lungs ready to explode. He heard and felt the thundering noise of the paws as the cat was running behind him. He had to make it! His mind was blank with terror, only seeing Thomas stretching his arms to him, screaming his name.

Newt threw himself into the brunette's arms, crying out of fear as he felt his clothes being pulled from behind, stuck between the tip of a paw and the wall. He screamed at Thomas to pull him up, his fingers digging into the brunette's arms so much they bled. The greenie didn’t even feel it, pulling his mentor with all the force he could muster and holding him as strongly as he could. Eventually the fabric of the blonde's clothes escaped from the animal’s grip and the two boys fell on the ground, trying their best to go as deep in the hole as they could. The cat's paw was only five centimetres or so away from them. Newt was painfully grasping Thomas's arm and shoulder as he looked above his own shoulder at the animal, the eyes wide and yelling out of terror. Despite his own fear, Thomas was shocked by his friend's huge reaction and took it upon himself to take him in his arms, hugging him so tightly it would not have surprised him to hear a bone cracking. He found himself winded as he growled.

“For shuck sake, didn’t you hear me warning you about the cat a hundred times?!”

But Newt couldn’t hear him, Thomas realised. The blond was totally terrified, nothing made any sense right now in his head. Resolutely, Thomas made the decision to concentrate on his friend, trying to momentarily put his own fear aside, and hugged the boy just like Newt had done during the night. With one hand in his hair, he forced the blonde to nuzzle his face into his neck, so he could speak clearly into his ear.

“Shhh... It’s okay. That thing can’t touch us. We are safe here. Don’t worry, I got you.”

He could feel Newt trembling against him, feel his erratic breath against his neck. He slowly cradled him, one arm around his waist with his hand caressing his hips, the other hand in the blonde’s hair, his fingers dancing through the strands. Again and again he found himself murmuring those words in his ear.

“I got you... I’m here with you... No one can touch you...”

After long minutes, the trembling slowly came to a stop and Newt raised his head to look at the entrance of their hideout. The cat had stopped it’s attempts to catch them and was nowhere to be seen, probably round the side or a few centimetres away, ready to jump if he saw anything moving. The silence seemed to clear the blonde's head because he looked back angrily at his pupil and pushed him hard, making Thomas groan when his back hit the bottom of their hideout.

“What were you bloody thinking coming here on your own?! What is wrong with you?!”

“You never told me there was a cat in here!” The brunette replied accusingly.

“Because there was no cat until today!” Newt shouted. “And don't change the subject! Why the bloody hell did you come here alone, huh?! No runner goes into the Men Land alone, especially not a greenie! Are you shucking stupid, is that the reason?! I gave you work to do and you just ran into the wild because you didn't like it?!”

Thomas didn't answer, dropping his gaze to the ground. It was not supposed to turn out this way. Nothing was. He sighed and shook his head, tired and resigned. A few long seconds passed and when the blonde turned away, not waiting an answer anymore, Thomas finally talked.

“I messed up. I've been a bastard, saying horrible things to you just because...” He gulped, stuttering as he searched for words. “I hurt you, I know that much. And I couldn't bear you being mad at me so I talked to Zart and he told me you liked strawberries but that they were rare. So I came here to get one and ask for your forgiveness.”

Newt looked at him with wide eyes as the words were replaying in his head, slowly finding a meaning. The greenie had come here for him? Just to please him by finding something he liked and ask him for forgiveness? The fair-haired boy felt like his heart had missed a beat. He said the only thing that came to mind.

“But it's not even the season for strawberries.”

“Yeah, I just got that when I found none.” Thomas huffed a lonely laugh. “So I just picked this instead.”

He patted a ball about half their size, wrapped in gold and pink aluminium. Newt didn't have to look closely to it to know it was chocolate with strawberry cream inside. He was speechless, looking from the chocolate ball to the boy who slowly scratched his own scalp, apparently not daring to look up at him.

“That's when I saw the cat. A few more seconds and I was done. I've been trapped here for, what, an hour maybe?” Thomas let out a joyless huffed laugh. “And then I heard you. Out of all the people I never thought would come after me, you came. I tried to warn you but when I saw you under the armchair, I knew you hadn't heard me at all. For a second there I really thought that because of me...”

He didn't finish but his friend understood. Newt stared at the brunette that put his head in his hands, letting a shaky breath out as he imagined terrible things. All this time, Thomas had only been thinking of him. The realisation of that softened the blonde's anger a bit and he sighed, slightly shaking his head. He headed back to Thomas and put his hands on his shoulders, squeezing them lightly in a comforting gesture.

“I’m fine. And you are too. For now. And that’s the most important thing, okay?”

Thomas finally looked up at him, uncertainty in his eyes, as if he was expecting Newt to yell at him now that he had got his full attention. But the fair-haired boy just nodded slowly, a silent question in his eyes. The brunette nodded in response and Newt sighed, letting him go, and looked towards the exit of their hideout.

“Now, we must find a way to get past that griever.”

 

**_To be continued..._ **


	6. Won't die like this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt and Thomas cannot flee. Only one conclusion comes to them: they are going to die. But not like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betad by wonderful FifiB who already caught me up in this story!  
> Hope you like it, guys.
> 
> ****
> 
> WARNING: THE RATING OF THIS STORY IS NOW CHANGING TO E WITH THIS CHAPTER.
> 
> ****

The light was beginning to fade. It must have been around 6 p.m. Thomas let out an angry yell and kicked the wall, earning a tired glare from his companion. Newt was sat at the bottom of their hideout, all sweaty and short-winded. They have been trying for hours to get past the cat, but the animal kept waiting for them to get out of their hideout. Sometimes it viciously let them thought it was asleep or gone, and jumped out at the last second. This was one of those times and they had run back to the safety of the wall, Newt falling to the ground with the heart pounding like it was ready to explode. Thomas wiped the sweat of his face with his t-shirt and gave the wall another kick with an angry cry.

“Breaking your foot against the wall won’t help us, genius.” His friend groaned.

“It’s been hours! Doesn’t this thing sleep at all?!” The brunette exclaimed.

“Not when knowing we are here without any possible exit but this one. Come here, you’ll gain nothing by staying near the entrance now.”

Thomas exhaled fiercely and stepped back to Newt. The blonde had wrapped his arms around his knees and held them against his torso, his body slightly trembling. He was obviously doing his best to hold himself together, Thomas could see this and decided to approach and sit near him. He grabbed the aluminium protection of the chocolate and tore it apart so he could at least punch the chocolate surface and sank his hand in. When he pulled it back, it was full of a clear pink mousse that he offered to his friend.

“Here, take some.”

Newt looked at him, a little startled, and gave him a small smile before nodding and taking the handful in his own. He hadn’t had strawberry in long time and the taste of it made him almost moan in delight. Thomas smiled at that and ate too. It was sweet and soft, lovely and comforting. He looked up to Newt who smiled brightly at him, with mousse all over his chin, on purpose, and they giggled, allowing themselves to relax a bit. The fair-haired boy was not trembling anymore and it pleased Thomas as much as it intrigued him: Newt was visibly terrified at the sight of the cat, he had trembled out of fear during hours. Hesitantly, the brunette murmured:

“Newt? Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.” The blond answered, shrugging as he took the mousse out of his chin.

“Why are you so afraid of the cat?” He closed his eyes an instant, mentally insulting himself. “I mean... I know that a cat is dangerous, that he can kill us and all but... You look literally terrified...”

Newt looked at him for a moment, his face blank. Well maybe that had been a really stupid question after all and Thomas wanted to apologise because he had been a dickhead again, but the voice of his friend stopped him.

“It’s okay...” Newt inhaled slowly, as if building up courage or preparing to go through something unpleasant.

Thomas didn’t know if he wanted to know so badly because it looked painful for the other boy. But his curiosity was almost always the strongest, and he wanted to know more about the second-in-command of the Glade, appreciating that the blonde didn’t just shut him up. Newt’s voice was low as he began to speak.

“You probably realised that I have a different way of speaking, an accent.” He looked as the brunette nodded slowly. “It’s because I’m not from here. I’m from England.”

The name didn’t mean anything to Thomas. He had no idea what Newt was talking about, except that it was quite far away. The blonde must have realised it because he sighed and try to find a way to explain himself:

“It's thousands kilometres from here. Like... An entire day on plane. Wait, you don't know what a plane is. Shuck...” He shook his head.

“Never mind. It's incredibly far away, I got that.” Thomas encouraged him to continue.

“Right... I was ten years old, well, kind of. I was a hell of a kid. Always running everywhere, not able to stay in one spot for more than a few seconds. One day though, I followed my uncle to the Men Land. Wanted to see what it was like since he always told me incredible stories about it. But I... I got caught.”

Thomas stared at him, listening quietly to the story. He held his breath at the last words and waited. The blonde was visibly struggling in finding his words so he didn't push him, waiting for a few seconds to his friend to go on.

“It was a human kid. He was about my age I supposed. I'm not sure. But he put me in a jar and didn't want to let me go. They were moving the day after in the wee morning to come to the States.” At Thomas confused look, he sighed. “Here. So he wanted to take me with him. Hiding me from his parents. I cried a lot, insulting myself for being so stupid to have thought that I was invincible and for following my uncle. My parents came to rescue me during the night. But it was a trap the human kid had made and the three of us were caught.”

Newt's mouth was a thin line and he breathed profoundly, yet Thomas knew there was more to come. He got up and went at his friend's side, sitting right next to him, their shoulders touching. The blonde exhaled and took a piece of aluminium to keep his hands occupied, not looking to the brunette.

“We were in two different jars. He put us in his backpack and we were out of the house. I... I cried even more, telling my parents I was sorry and all. I knew they couldn't hear me since I couldn’t hear them neither, but I think they understood my words. After a few hours, my uncle appeared, he had managed to come along without being seen. And he tried to help us. He really tried.”

Thomas felt his stomach tightened. He put his head against the wall and swallowed, not wanting to imagine the rest but he didn't even have to: Newt kept talking. His voice changing as his throat was getting more and more crushed by held back tears. His body had begun to tremble again and his fingers were getting white as he held his knees tighter against him.

“We lost him. In the airport. The human kid jerked his backpack violently and my uncle lost balance. He fell out of the bag... We stayed hours in this shucking bag. I thought we were gonna die of hunger. But I was so naive...” His lips trembled and tears began to run down his cheeks, his breathing shuddering.

His friend was looking at him, concerned: how could this get even worse? But then, Thomas knew that he was being naive too, even if nothing had prepared him for what he was going to hear. Newt sniffled and whispered.

“The human boy took us to his bedroom. He said that I didn't need parents, that he could understand that because sometimes his were boring. So he took them and gave them to a cat. His cat I guess...” The blonde's voice broke. “It killed them. I saw them die, Tommy. And it was entirely my fault! Because I was stupid enough to be seen by a big one! And even like that, the last words my parents told me through the glass were that they loved me.”

Thomas was open-mouthed in shock. How could anyone be so cruel? Without thinking twice, he took his friend into a bone crushing hug, pressing his head against his. He let the boy cry against his neck, whispering how sorry he felt for him, even if sorry was definitely not a word strong enough for that. He was horrified by all this, wondering how someone could survive such a life experience.

Newt was trembling, letting the tears to flow down his face. He hadn't told this story to anyone since then and was now suffering from the crushing feelings he had felt that day. He kept crying for half an hour maybe, before saying, without trying to move from Thomas' embrace:

“How ironic... I'm gonna die like my parents.”

“Stop it, Newt.” The brunette frowned, pulling back so he could see his friend's face, his heart aching at the sight of his tears. “We're not gonna die. Not like this.”

“Tommy...” Newt's voice was like tired of explaining things to a child. “Face it: we've tried for hours. If we don't die because of this shucking griever, we will just starve to death when this chocolate ball will be over. No one will come for us since they don't know where we are and I just told them not to come after us.”

“Newt!” Thomas wanted to protest but the blonde just shook his head.

“We are already dead, Tommy.”

The brunette sighed profoundly but did not argue, because deep inside his brain had come to the same conclusion: they were never going to make it. He hugged the fair-haired boy more tightly and whispered.

“I'm sorry, Newt... It's my entire fault... If I hadn't been so stupid, we would have never ended up here. You would never have to face a cat again.”

Newt straightened to look into Thomas eyes and wiped his cheeks with the palm of one hand before shaking his head. It wasn't Thomas fault: he couldn't have known that there was a cat in this flat. He hadn't known himself. He forced a small smile and said.

“Told you already that thinking wasn't your thing.”

They both huffed a little laugh and sighed. A few minutes passed like this, Newt resting against Thomas' chest, just resigned to face their end. They knew each other enough to know that they would die trying to escape, they wouldn't die starving, it wasn't in their nature. Eventually, one of them would sacrifice himself so the other perhaps could make it. Or the cat was just going to kill them both and then play with their corpses.

None of these scenarios were appealing. Every breath, every heartbeat was driving them closer to their death. How depressing. Newt sighed and tried to find something to say: silence was their worst enemy right now. He frowned a little and murmured.

“Tommy?”

“Hm?”

“Why were you so upset with me this morning?” The blonde asked, slightly moving his head to look up at his friend.

Thomas felt his face getting warmer as the blood rushed to his cheeks and swallowed. Should he tell him the truth? Not that it really mattered now in their situation. He inhaled deeply and sighed.

“At first I didn't know. But after talking to Zart, I got it. You see, I've always been with my parents only. You are my first friend... So when I saw you coming back with Ben, I got jealous. I didn't want to share you, I guess, exclusive like a kid would be. Because I never had to share anything or anyone with anybody before.” He sighed again. “I suppose we can say that I'm a spoiled child.”

Newt looked at him with no judgement in his eyes, just understanding: he had long accepted that the boy's past had nothing to do with his own. They were just different. He nodded slowly and smiled gently.

“I'm sorry I didn't try to understand then.”

“No. You had all the right to be angry against me. The only right actually. I am the one that must apologise to you. It was immature and unfair.” Thomas insisted.

“All right, all right. Apologies accepted.” Newt gave up, his eyes rolling. “You were the very bad guy and me the poor little thing.”

“Don’t say that. Makes me feel bad.” Thomas smiled.

“You don’t bloody know what you want!” The blonde laughed, feeling so good and yet so weird to laugh in such circumstances, not knowing if they would live to see tomorrow.

The brunette growled, not wanting to go further on the subject. But the smile on his friend did not help him even a bit with that and he rolled his eyes, sighing deeply before looking back at the second-in-command of the Glade right into the eyes.

“What you’re smirking at?”

“You said I was your first friend.” Newt said, amused. “I think it’s pretty nice to hear.”

“You doubted it?” Thomas’ eyebrow shot to his hairline.

“That I was your friend? Nope. I thought so. But I didn’t know I was your first friend.” The blonde smiled. “Feeling pretty honoured.”

“Laugh at me, you shank.”

And Newt did laugh, but not in a mocking way, so it was not long before Thomas joined him, both of them shaken by their giggling. They stayed a moment like that, trying to forget where they were and why. Until they heard a muffled sound and saw soft paws passing in front of their hideout, or prison depending of the point of view. The brunette felt the boy in his arms stiffened, Newt’s fingers digging in his right arm and his left shoulder; he gritted his teeth and held him tighter again. The cat disappeared again, and they needed a few minutes before trying to relax a bit.

And even when his breathing went slower, his heartbeat was still running wildly as his brain was imagining the worst. But what was the worst? For sure, he wouldn’t be able to live with it if the blonde had to die for him to save his life. But would he die to save Newt? He wanted to say yes. Not to be a hero, only to think he could be a good person able to think for someone else safety instead of his own. But he also knew that he couldn’t be sure he would: he had never been so conscious of the imminence of his death. He swallowed with difficulty, trying to tell himself that if he had to, he would try to buy some time for Newt to flee. And if he had the guts to do so, then he was really going to die. He shivered.

“Tommy.” The fair-haired boy looked up at him. “Told you not to think.”

“Newt... Can I ask you something?” Thomas murmured. “Like... A favour...?”

The blonde raised an eyebrow and straightened, pulling a bit away so he could turn himself and look directly to his pupil, questions in his eyes. The brunette briefly chewed his lower lip, his gaze dropping for an instant, as if trying to find some courage.

“Could you...” His eyes met Newt’s again. “Kiss me?”

“Beg your pardon?” Newt let out without even thinking, his eyebrows jumping to his hairline in surprise.

“It’s a favour. I’ve never kissed anyone since I’ve never been with anyone else then my parents.” Thomas said again, looking him back in the eyes. “I don’t wanna die without knowing what it’s like.”

Newt looked back at him, blankly, as if the boy’s demand couldn’t quite go through his brain. Or maybe was he weighing up the positives and negatives of the situation. Thomas didn’t know. He swallowed loudly, looking at the blonde, waiting for any sign of disdain, refusal, liking... But he saw nothing like that. Instead Newt approached, slowly, his gaze hesitating between looking him in the eye or staring at his lips. Their breath mixed and finally Newt came to him, pressing his lips against his. It was nothing more than a soft pressure at first and then the blonde did it again with more force; one kiss after the other, each one more daring then the previous one, Newt put his hands on Thomas shoulders and climbed onto his lap. A smile cracked his lips as he felt uncertain hands landing on his hips, but he didn't say anything, his own hands instead sliding up the brunette’s neck and then cupping his face. Newt adjusted the angle of his head and slightly bit his friend's lower lip, huffing a small laugh at the surprised yelp he earned for that, and caressed the bruised lip with the tip of his tongue as an apology.

Newt hadn't had a private moment like this in a long time, so he didn't feel even slightly ashamed to press himself a bit more against Thomas' body, feeling how deliciously warm he was through the fabric of their clothes. His own heart was beating faster and stronger as he dared to silently ask for entrance into the brunette's mouth with his tongue. He felt satisfied as Thomas reacted instinctively and parted his lips, letting their tongues come to meet each other, shyly first, but then Newt guided him, caressing his tongue with tenderness and leading him through a slow but ravishing dance. They parted as Thomas was running out of air and the blonde smiled slightly, before leaning to kiss his friend's jaw.

“There's so much you don't know, Tommy...” he murmured, removing one of his hands to kiss the skin of the brunette's neck. “May I...?”

He could feel Thomas shiver under him and couldn't possibly say that he didn't like it. His own voice had been deep, low and soft. When had he become such a teasing little shank? He smiled to himself when the brunette nodded enthusiastically and he lightly sucked the offered neck, just enough to tear a moan out of Thomas but not enough to leave a mark. Feeling the body under his tensing under the pleasure went right to his groin with a delicious tingling.

Thomas had closed his eyes as he felt the warm breath gliding over on his skin, goosebumps appearing at this light caress, and shivers coursing through his entire body at those moist lips on his neck. His mouth was open as he definitely needed air, his breath shuddering as if he was suffocating; his blood was boiling in his veins, his entire body like a furnace and feeling like if every nerve was more alert than never. Just the pressure of Newt's body on him was enough to hollow his breathing already. Without thinking, his arms captured the blonde's waist and pulled him closer if that was even possible. To his surprise, the move tore a moan from Newt who was now panting heavily, his dark brown eyes looking at him as he pressed their foreheads together.

“Told you...” The fair-haired boy muttered, his voice like velvet, and Thomas felt the hard on against his own groin. “There's definitely so much you don't know.”

“I know.” He sighed, his mind painfully focused on the prominence he felt, knowing without having to watch that this had nothing to envy. “I know nothing of the world... So teach me.”

The dark chocolate eyes looked at him with desire and lust, even Thomas could say so, feeling the boy shivering on him. How could you be so innocent and yet so attractive? A little laugh escaped from Newt's lips as he slightly shook his head against his.

“God, don't say things like that.”

And with that, he literally claimed the brunette's mouth in a fierce kiss. Thomas' heart jumped and raced like never before, giving in completely to the blonde's lips. Newt's hands wandered on Thomas' body, seeming to know exactly where to touch him, finding the places where his touches provoked sparks and wild shivers. The brunette wanted to do it, to make his friend moan and sigh in pleasure, so he let his own hands to run on the blonde's body, discovering this thin frame he knew so well and yet so little about at the same time, caressing the muscles he felt under the top, the curve of his hips... Newt produced a faint sound in response to a caress and that was all Thomas wanted at this instant, the same hunger glittering in his hazel eyes now. How could he want someone that much? A boy? And one that he had known for two days too? Sure the perspective of dying soon caused them to forget all the rest just to savour this private moment, but there was more than that, like a real desire.

But he didn't stop to think, Newt letting loose his lips to attack his neck, sucking and biting it as he went lower and lower. Getting at the collar of Thomas' t-shirt, the blonde growled and his hands hastily found themselves tearing the insolent fabric up, just to lean down and kiss his torso. The brunette was panting, his brain disconnected, not able to choose between closing his eyes or looking at the exuberant sexiness. His hands found their way to Newt's hair, sliding through the blond strands, his nails digging slightly into his scalp.

“God, Newt...” He whispered, his body hot and sweaty.

“Shhh.” The fair-haired boy looked up at him, a mischievous smile on his lips, his voice stained of secrecy. “You know nothing yet.”

Thomas didn't know what he meant and he suddenly froze, looking straight into Newt’s eyes as the blonde was opening Thomas' pants, sliding his hand under the clothes, directly on his skin. Thomas jumped and yelped under the sensation, his eyes widening before closing and rolling as his head toppled over, a loud moan escaping his throat as his body arched brutally.

“Oh shuck!”

Newt smiled with all his teeth and nibbled his lower lip at the sight of the brunette’s pleasure. His hand wrapped around Thomas’ arousal and gently began to move up and down its entire length, his eyes observing the body he dominated. His smile grew wider as his hand went faster. He straightened to lean over his companion and whispered.

“And this is not even the beginning, Tommy...” His own voice was low, his tone predatory. “Do you wanna know? Do you want me to show you?”

Thomas wanted to scream. It was definitely not the same when it was someone else’s hand. His voice came out so uneven that he would have died of shame in normal circumstances, but right now, there was no shame, no what if, nothing, just pleasure.

“Please, Newt. Please.” He whispered.

The Glade’s second-in-command smiled, satisfied, and leaned in, his mouth welcoming the hardness in his wet warm atmosphere. Thomas arched again, gasping loudly before moaning shamelessly. He closed his eyes as he felt a mischievous tongue dancing on the top of his arousal and then slowly sliding down as the warmth took him entirely. Newt replaced his hand with his mouth, his lips perfectly moulding to Thomas' shape, and he quickened his motions, his hands keeping the brunette's legs wide open, one flatly pushing his leg aside from the inside, the other one wrapped around the second leg and pulling it from the outside. The hissed sounds of pleasure he heard were a song he liked, silently ordering him to go faster, a request to which he willingly obliged.

Thomas’ hands tightened against his head but didn't try to force him up or down, not interfering in the now fast rhythm he had adopted. A whine made him smile. He really enjoyed that. And Thomas too, according to the mess he was becoming: his t-shirt up his torso, his pants open, his skin shining with sweat, the colour of his cheeks, his facial expressions. Oh yes, he loved it.

Feeling his own hardness beginning to ache, Newt let go one of the brunette's legs and, without stopping his rocking movements, he slipped a hand into his own. He hadn't been that hard in a long time, shuddering at the only touch of his hand. He hadn't realised he was so aroused, but the sensitivity of his skin spoke loudly to him. He stroked himself in coordination with what he was doing to his pupil, becoming short of breath as he did. But he wouldn't stop. Not now.

"Oh god! God!" Thomas whined.

And Newt felt it, exploding in his mouth in one bitter salty spurt. He didn't expect Thomas to come so soon until he remembered that the brunette was a virgin. His eyes smiled, amused and feeling dizzy like he was drunk. He pulled out and spat out the semen, only to look back to the mess Thomas was, all panting and sweating and gorgeousness. He sighed and leant on the body under his, pulling himself up and dragging Thomas’ legs over his, so he could kiss, suck, and bite at his companion's jaw and neck while whispering with a croaky, needy voice.

"Hey, Tommy, you can't leave me like this." He let go of his own hardness to press his body against his, shivering under the touch.

Thomas let out a weak moan at this treatment and looked to the blonde, drowning in those eyes, devouring him. He slowly nodded and one of his hands went down their bodies, slipping in between to go and hide in his mentor's pants. Newt moaned, closing his eyes under the caress. It was so overwhelmingly gentle. He felt the hesitating fingers touching him lightly, uncertain, and then, encouraged by the fair-haired boy's sighs of pleasure, he fastened the pace. Newt pressed his forehead against Thomas’, eyes closed, breathing like he’d just been running with sweat dripping along his temples. Thomas couldn't get enough of this sight, his mouth slightly open as he kept his eyes on the blonde's face while his hand stroked him fast.

But that was not enough. If they were to die soon, this was not enough for Newt in Thomas' opinion. His free hand went through the blonds strands and grabbed the hair, making his friend whine.

"Newt." Thomas called. "Newt, look at me."

The Gladers’ second-in-command opened his eyes to look into the brunette's in confusion, frowning as his mind tried to make abstraction of his flattered manliness in vain. Thomas' hand was unsure yet he was rocking in it, looking for the electrifying shudders. But he felt nonetheless the fingers slightly digging into his scalp, as if calling for him. When Thomas was sure he got Newt’s full attention, he whispered.

"Ask anything. Tell me... This is not enough, I know it. What do you want? Ask."

The blonde looked at him for a moment, swallowing hard as he tried to overlook the mess his mind had become. He wanted so much more... Without saying anything, he grabbed his companion's hand in his hair and dragged the brunette's fingers into his own mouth, his tongue dancing on them as he sucked like it was the sweetest thing in the world. They tasted like strawberry mousse indeed. And Thomas looked at him with lustful eyes. Newt knew he remembered the blonde's mouth on his hard on and played viciously with it, moaning shamelessly while taking those fingers in and out. He heard the brunette swallowing loudly and he opened his eyes again to look at him, letting his hand go free.

"I want those in me." He whispered, his tone full of desperation from how much he needed this.

As Thomas looked at him dumbfounded, Newt took his hand and guided it from his chin to his neck, his collarbone, his side, his waist and stopped there, looking into his eyes.

"Or does it disgust you?"

Newt's breath was uneven, even after the stroking on his hardness had stopped, and his eyes were locked into Thomas'. The brunette stayed speechless for a moment, fully understanding the demand of his friend, maybe he took too long because the blonde swallowed, awkwardly, and whispered lamely.

"I'm not asking for your bloody dick..."

As if Newt had flicked a switch, Thomas leaned up and captured his companion's lips, his tongue breaking through as his hand got free of his mentor's and slid between his buttocks, touching the blonde's entrance with the tip of his fingers. The slight touch was enough to tear a whine from Newt that died in Thomas' mouth, his entire body stiffening on top of the greenie's. They kept kissing, Newt's hand clawing at the boy's torso, but Thomas had to broke the kiss, only to groan against his lips.

"How do I do that?"

"Two at once." Newt told him, almost on a begging tone.

The brunette loudly swallowed and obeyed, digging two fingers into the blonde. Newt lifted his head with closed eyes, moaning as his nails left red marks on Thomas' torso while he felt the intruders deliciously invading his privacy.

"Oh shuck...!" He whispered before leaning down and pressing back his forehead against his, his breath like running but his tone still commanding. "Thrust."

And with that, he desperately kissed him, stifling another moan against his lips. Thomas found it strange at first, feeling the burning heat on his fingers, but the blonde seemed to love it and his visible pleasure was all that mattered right now. Eventually, without asking, Thomas moved both of his hands faster, making Newt whimper and moan. His hand was struggling between their bodies and Newt seemed to get it since he straightened a bit, his hands abandoning Thomas' torso to press against the wall just above the brunette's head. And the sight was amazing. Thomas could now see all the fair-haired boy's body, his spread legs, his shaking, the hardness his hand was stroking, red and shining with pre-cum, his flat stomach disappearing under the tank top damp with sweat, his chest rising and falling irregularly as the blonde tried to breathe, his neck moving as he swallowed, his mouth opened searching for air, his eyes closed and his eyebrows furrowed as if he was in pain. Except that he was not. And he was gorgeous.

Newt's arms were shaking as the waves of pleasure washed over him, hitting and taking apart his mind like a hurricane. Without even having to ask, he felt the fingers clenching in him, tearing a loud moan from his throat. To see he felt pure bliss would be an understatement right now, and yet, it wasn't enough.

"Add a third one...! Please!" His voice was nearly a squeal but he didn't mind, pride had long since been forgotten.

His eyes rolled in ecstasy as he felt the brunette obey. He had long forgotten his shame and found himself moving his hips just to accentuate Thomas' touches. He didn't mind what his partner was thinking: he needed it. But at the fast penetration, making him whimper, he knew Thomas wanted to please him deeply. He felt weaker and weaker under the electrifying shivers, wanting to feel the orgasmic bliss, but he never thought that he would hear what the brunette said next.

"Newt, I'm hard again."

The movements stopped, like Thomas was calling for his attention and he opened his eyes, registering the information and feeling a pang of desire shooting in his groin. Was it a hint? An offer? He looked down at him, his heart thundering wildly at his overheated temples, not daring to ask if he understood the implications. Thomas stared back at him, swallowing hard, and whispered, uncertain.

"Do you... Want it...?"

"Are you sure about this?" Newt countered, looking him dead in the eyes. "'Cuz I won't stop."

Thomas stared back, noting the choice his friend left him whilst being aroused beyond measure. He couldn't deny that he was almost afraid, buy if he was to die, he wanted to know how it felt to have sex with someone. And he wanted to do it with Newt. He wanted to see his face distorted by pleasure and to hear him whimper and moan because of him. His hands tenderly caressed the blonde's thighs as he nodded.

"Say it." Newt insisted.

"I want to be inside you."

Newt's breath shuddered at those words and he took one of his hands off the wall, letting it slide through Thomas' hair, down his neck, along his collarbone, his torso, his stomach. The blonde's mouth was open as he breathed heavily, his eyes locked with his companion's, and they inhaled deeply as he took the brunette's hardness in his hand. He moaned when feeling the fingers leaving his being, killing the sound by biting his bottom lip and straightening himself to place the object of his desire at his own entrance. Slowly, he let him in, both boys gasping at the first contact. Thomas let his head fall back against the wall, his eyes rolling as his mouth opened wide searching for air, letting out a loud moan. The sudden burning heat and pressure around him almost made him come instantly. It was like his being was brutally crushed by an intense wave of chaotic ecstasy. Newt hissed, pain passing over his face for a second, but didn't stop, taking him in in all at once. He loudly sighed in content at the sensation of Thomas fully inside him, his head up to the ceiling, eyes closed.

"God...!" He whispered, and smiled, looking down at him. "Never thought your size would impress me."

Thomas would have blushed, but with Newt moving on him, grinding his hips, his mind just burst into a blissful mess, tearing what was almost a cry from him. The blonde had one hand on the wall and one on the brunette's torso now, his nails digging into the flesh as he mewled in content. They wouldn't last long, they knew it. Thomas felt feverish and grabbed Newt's buttocks firmly, making him moan once more.

"T-Tommy...?"

The fair-haired boy couldn't ask anything more as his companion folded up his legs for support and thrust into the blond hard and fast. Newt yelled in surprise and pleasure, needing both his hands on the wall to take Thomas' assaults. His mind didn't exist anymore, his voice alternating from moans to whines. Thomas bit down hard on his own bottom lip as he gave all he had, looking at his ravished mentor, their bodies burning in an amazing lust furnace. Feeling the edge coming, he gave three last hard thrusts. Newt came after the first one in a loud cry, his seed springing violently between them and even reaching Thomas' jaw; the brunette needed the two final thrusts before releasing into his companion with a loud grunt.

Newt fell on him, boneless and gasping for air, his eyes half lidded and feverish. Thomas leaned back entirely on the ground, feeling as if his lungs had forgotten how to breathe, but with the dizzy sensation of satisfaction spreading through his entire body. They kept silent for a moment, just trying to catch their breath back, and he heard Newt laughing slightly, his half-naked body shaking on his.

"Shuck... I can die now."

 

**_To be continued..._ **


	7. Betrayal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas fights to give Newt a chance to escape, but when everything seems over for the brunette, there is a miracle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betad by amaing FifiB! ^_^
> 
> ****

They had slept for one hour, just enough time to regain some strength but not so much as to make them drowsy. Newt was arranging his backpack whilst Thomas was making sure for the umpteenth time that his shoes were fastened tightly. The brunette looked up to his friend after a few minutes of deafening silence.

“Newt?”

“Hm?” The blonde didn't look up from the straps he was adjusting.

“How did you escape?” Thomas finally asked. “From the human boy, I mean... How did you make it?”

Newt stopped moving for a second, his eyes staring at an empty space, and then finished what he was doing without a word. The greenie wondered if he’d asked too much and began to think Newt wasn't going to answer when suddenly his low voice broke the silence.

“That's when I met Minho.” Newt leaned backward to find support against the wall. “After two days of hell, he appeared one night, knocking on my jar. He told me he would come back for me, telling me not to move.”

A huffed laugh escaped the Glade's second-in-command's lips as he shook his head slightly at the memory.

"Like I could go anywhere, you know. I felt this incredible hope and then despair when I saw him go. I cried again, thinking he was never gonna come back for me. But he did. He came back with an adult. A tall man with dark hair. They worked together to get me out of the jar. I couldn't believe it until we were safe, behind the wall..."

Newt ran a hand in his messy blond hair, his gaze away as he remembered that day. He vividly remembered how Minho had had to support him for how weak he was. Physically and mentally broken. The Asian Borrower had taken it upon himself to carry the boy on his back. Newt sighed lightly.

“I couldn't even speak. The man told me his name and that I could come with him if I wanted. That his wife would make sure that I ate. But just kept shaking my head; I was a mess. Wanting to die but so desperately willing to live at the same time. Minho suggested that I stick with him. He was an orphan and already a very good borrower. I nodded and we haven’t left each other since then.”

He smiled at that and looked at Thomas before going around him and checking that his backpack was correctly secured. The brunette was trying to picture the two boys in his mind as the blonde talked again, visibly needing to tell everything that weighed on his heart.

“Minho was very patient with me. I didn't talk for an entire year, not even to say my name so Minho always called me Greenie. I don't even know where he got that word from. And then, the day I turned eleven, the first word I said to him was “thanks” and then my name.”

“Wow...” Thomas didn't really know what to say when suddenly it hit him. “Wait. One entire year? So the reason you hate your birthday...”

“It's because it's the day my parents died. Yes.” Newt sadly nodded. “I will always remember that day as the one my stupidity killed them.”

“It wasn't your fault!” The brunette hastily replied, turning to face his friend, grabbing his shoulders. “You were just a kid!”

“That doesn't change anything, Tommy.” He offered a weak smile when saying his nickname. “Not for me... But... I feel kinda glad I told you everything. I never told anyone. Not even Minho, but I think he guessed almost all the story by himself.”

Thomas looked sadly at his mentor and pulled him into a tight hug, Newt widening his eyes in surprise before slowly smiling and hugging him back. They stayed like that a few seconds and then parted.

“Ready?”

“Nope. But I'll have to go, right?” Thomas let out a huffed joyless laugh.

“Yep.” Newt nodded and breathed deeply.

They both stepped towards the entrance of their hideout, looking for the cat. It was comfortably lying on an armchair in the middle of the way to the kitchen, seeming to be asleep. They didn't relax though: more than once had this animal let them think it was sleeping just to jump at them when they were nearby. They couldn't afford to keep going like this since it was incredibly stressful and tiring for both their bodies and minds. So they inhaled deeply and squeezed each other’s hands gently before letting go and starting to move. They walked together, as lightly as they could, preparing to break apart as soon as the cat opened an eye. It would have to choose one of them. Thomas hated the idea but there were no other options. It was one of them or both. They were halfway to the armchair when they saw those eyes, one icy blue, one fiery orange, staring at them. It was the signal.

They broke apart in one coordinated movement, Newt launching to the right and Thomas to the left. Thomas was closer to the kitchen but he didn't intent to make a dash for it. He had to watch the cat. The furry animal was on its paws, readying itself to jump... In Newt’s direction. The brunette's blood froze. It was now. He had to make a choice. His feet stopped, his hands reaching his face as he cupped his mouth and screamed out loud.

“HEY SHUCKER!!”

The cat immediately looked back to him. Surprised to be yelled at by something smaller than a mouse? Perhaps. Intrigued? Maybe. Willing to eat him? Nothing was surer. Thomas heard his name. Newt had got under the sofa. He was safe, for now. He backtracked, running back in direction of the wall. He had to get Newt some time to make it to the kitchen.

“Tommy!!!” The blonde screamed at the top of his lungs as the cat jumped towards his friend.

That couldn't be happening, not all over again! Newt felt like his heart had stopped, watching the brunette running, giving all he had to this sprint. The cat was faster. Newt didn't hold in the desperate cry that tore from his throat, not a word or a name, just a deafening sound, as the tears crumbled down his cheeks. He saw the cat knocking Thomas to the ground by catching his feet, the brunette letting out a yelp when crashing.

And then the door opened, the cat looking up to the hallway. A man entered the flat, Newt could only see his shoes. That was when Thomas let out another cry, oblivious of the human presence. Newt eyes widened when he saw the shoes turning towards the living room. A cat and a human. It was a nightmare! The shoes stepped in their direction as a deep voice asked.

“Winston? What are you doing? What did you catch?”

And then something the blonde could never have imagined happened. Thomas literally fought to get out of the cat's paws, yelling. A name.

“ALBY??!!! For shuck's sake! Help!!!”

“Thomas?” The human gasped.

Dark skinned hands grabbed the cat and took it out of Newt's sight, the human's voice groaning insults at the animal. Was it all a bad joke? Thomas got up, dusting off his clothes and looked up at the human with... Relief? The Glade's second-in-command shook his head. How could this be even possible? Humans and Borrowers couldn't know each other. Borrowers couldn't be relieved to see a Big One. This couldn't be real.

Thomas was indeed relieved. He had seen his own death and couldn't quite believe he was still alive and in one piece, his hands running over his body just to make sure he was still in one piece. He smiled as the known figure leaned on him. Alby. He was the only human Thomas had been able to approach and talk to when he had escaped from his parents’ protective sight. They had met one day when Alby was sick in bed, a few years ago. The ebony skinned boy had seen him on his night table as curious little Thomas hidden behind a cup to look at him. He was only a child then, ten years old or something. And they had talked for a few hours before Thomas had to get back to his parents, with the flu. They had never been able to speak to each other again since then but they knew the other was nearby.

Alby had become a strong man and it was funny to see his childlike relief upon seeing the Borrower. His voice was full of emotion.

“God, Thomas... I never thought I'd see you again. When the house...” He sighed. “I'm so glad you made it. Did Winston hurt you?”

“No.” Thomas huffed an incredulous laugh. “I'm fine. I - Newt!”

His eyes searched for the blonde, suddenly highly stressed. Where was he? He spotted him under the sofa and sighed with relief, until he noticed his friend's expression. Newt was looking at him with eyes full of dread, half hidden behind the sofa leg, looking like a scared little thing. Thomas felt his heart clenching at this sight and asked Alby to wait a minute before running to the blonde.

“Newt!”

The boy was staring at him, as if he couldn't decide if he should move or not. But as soon as the brunette got under the sofa, his friend popped out and hugged him tightly. Their hearts were beating like crazy and it took Newt a few seconds before he managed to whisper.

“For a moment, I thought that cat would kill you.”

His voice was cracked and only then did Thomas get that the boy had been crying. He felt a guilty pleasure at this and hugged him a bit tighter, the blond strands caressing his face.

“I'm fine...” They parted.

“The shuck is going on with this Big One?” Newt questioned almost accusingly while turning his gaze to the shoes that hadn’t moved.

“His name is Alby. I met him a few years ago. When I was around ten. He’s nice, I swear.” Thomas’ hands went for the other boy’s shoulders and squeezed them lightly.

The dark brown eyes looked at him and the brunette could see fear in them. And Newt slightly shook his head before stepping back. This was too much for him. Thomas called his name a few times but each time the boy would shake his head and take a step back. He couldn’t take it. And the greenie felt his heart clenching more when he saw it: this light fading in the blonde’s eyes, as after a huge betrayal. Thomas slowly shook his head:

“Newt... Please. Listen...” He begged.

“No. You listen!” Now anger rang in the second-in-command’s voice. “I’m not listening to your shit! Nice? Are you shucking kidding me? Big Ones are NOT nice! They are cruel and vile! They kill for pleasure! For shuck’s sake, Tommy, haven’t you been listening to me all this time?!”

“Newt! It’s... It’s not the same Big One! Alby would never hurt us! Never hurt you!” Thomas protested.

“Oh! And you’re so sure of thanks to what?” Newt’s voice was more than stained with bitter irony. “Talking for a few hours with that Big One like seven or eight years ago? Almost a decade! Open your shucking eyes, Tommy!”

“You open your eyes, Newt!” The brunette barked.

And maybe this was the last straw. The blonde looked at him with disbelief that quickly turned to anger. He shook his head and turned on his heels, walking out from under the sofa right to the kitchen. After all, if that Big One was so reliable, he could make it without any more scratches, right? Thomas bit his bottom lip hard and broke into a run to catch his friend.

“Newt!” He reached for his arm.

“Let go of me!” Newt pulled his arm away. “Why don't you just stay with your Big One friend and forget about us? You're more like one of them than one of us!”

Somewhere, deep inside, Newt knew he was being a bastard, but right now, he didn't care. Hadn't Thomas listened to what he had told him? To this story he hadn't told anyone but him? Did it mean so little to him? He couldn't bear it, his thoughts swirling in his head, mixing with his memories of death and pain only to come out more bitter and hurtful from his mouth. He saw the pain in the brunette's eyes. He really did. But Thomas could see it in his eyes too, right? He shook his head, glaring at the boy.

“Just stay with your friend if he's that safe.”

And with that, he just left. This time Thomas didn't try to stop him and it hurt that little bit more. The brunette had chosen his side. Newt felt awful. Awful and stupid. He had allowed himself to be weak, to tell this story that haunted him, that fuelled his hatred towards Big Ones, and for what? To whom? To a Big Ones lover! He had exposed his soul to someone who obviously didn't understand or didn't care! Tears ran down his cheeks as he arrived in the kitchen at the bottom of the counter, he wiped them off and looked in his backpack for the double-sided tape. When he found it, he hastily put it under his shoes and in the palm of his hands and climbed along the cupboards.

It would normally take him a moment and require a great effort but anger and betrayal fuelled him like never before and he was soon out of sight, in the security of the wall. He took off the tape and threw it away, heading down to the basement. Why had he come? What had he risked his life for? This Alby would have saved Thomas from his cat anyway. Or maybe not. He didn't care. He arrived at the Glade sooner than he thought and heard a voice that made him look up.

“Hey! Guys! Get up!” It was Chuck.

Ben, Gally, Zart, Jeff, and Frypan appeared at the little boy's side. They were waiting for him. “For them” a little voice rose in his mind but he pushed it away. He walked to them and saw the fear and incomprehension in Chuck's eyes.

“Where's Thomas?” He whispered.

“Left behind.” Newt answered bitterly, his fists clenching.

And with that, he passed them. He didn't want to talk about it or have to answer multiple questions or even face the disappointed looks. Especially not from Chuck who had greatly hoped to see the brunette again. He headed for his room when he spotted a face he hadn't properly seen in what felt like ages. Minho was leant against the wall just beside his credit-card-door. The dark-haired boy looked up at him with a smirk.

“Heard you've been a great babysitter.”

“Minho...” Newt sighed and opened his door. “I don't wanna talk right now.”

“Guessed so...” The Asian nodded. “Where's the greenie?”

“See you, Minho.”

And he closed the door behind him. He was acting like a jerk. Minho had done nothing to him and he was his best friend and leader. But he couldn't handle that right now. Instead he looked to Thomas' bed and kicked it numerous times, letting out his rage in a furious cry, then he grabbed it and threw it at the door. Minho looked to the flying bed for a couple of seconds before staring at the closed door again. He had seen Newt angry more than once but not that hurt since the day they had met. He listened to the muffled sobs and sighed. It was not his business but he hated to see the blonde that down. He headed to the campfire place to find the keepers of the Glade and Chuck.

“Well. Could someone explain to me the shuck happened?”

“That greenie is a pain in the ass.” Gally answered.

“He's not!” Chuck countered.

“Just because you don't like him doesn't mean he's a bad person.” Frypan added, looking at the builder's keeper in disapproval.

“Ok, so you're gonna tell me that Newt is usually that upset all the time, maybe?” Gally growled.

No one answered. Minho looked at them and sighed heavily, already very tired for not having slept that much in the past few days but also because all this was giving him a huge headache. He pressed his face in his hands a few seconds and looked up to them.

“I want facts. Not your opinion.”

He was usually the nice and humorous kind of young man, but not when something was wrong with his second-in-command and the others could definitely see that he was pretty pissed off. Zart had the courage to talk first.

“Everything was good but the two of them had a fight and Thomas went to the Men Land alone and Newt went after him.”

“Nice summary.” Frypan chuckled joylessly. “Thomas has been a good lad so far, we can't condemn him just like that.”

“Have you seen Newt?!” Gally yelled back. “How can you say this greenie isn’t to blame for that?!”

“I'm not. Just saying it's none of our shucking business.” The cook shrugged. “Not that I don't care, but this is a personal matter. Newt doesn't need you guys rummaging around in his business.”

Minho nodded, agreeing with Frypan's point of view. He dismissed the keepers and sighed deeply. His body needed some rest. He headed to the hammocks and took the nearest one, not bothering to find out whose it was and fell asleep as soon as his head rested against the fabric.

***

Thomas was sitting on Alby's desk, his feet dangling in the wide gap in front of him. Alby has been kind to him and had given him juice in a pen cap. It was still too big but the Borrower appreciated the effort to try to enlighten his mood. He had been mortified when Newt had left without looking back. They had fought, then the blonde had come to his rescue, Newt had been his first time only for them to fight again... And Thomas felt once more that it was kind of his fault. Even if this time he knew that it wasn't really. Alby was a nice boy a bit older than him. Not by much though. And he was a Big One indeed, but a nice one, nothing to do with the one that tortured Newt and killed his parents. He knew it and selfishly wanted the blonde to see that.

But in a way he understood the second-in-command’s point of view. He would probably feel the same if a human had killed his parents. The thought of them saddened him. Thankfully Alby broke the silence.

“I'm sorry about your friend.”

“No... It's alright.” Thomas tried to smile. “He has his reasons... But I can’t tell you.”

“Not asking you to.” The tall boy shrugged and sat on a chair nearby. “But I must say I’m happy to see you have friends. Last time we talked, you told me you had none.”

“Yeah... The last few days have been tough...” The little brunette admitted, then he looked up to his friend. “But... What happened to the house?”

“It was madness.” Alby shook his head. “There was a construction site not very far away with cranes and all... And one of them fell. They told us that it was because of the wind and advertising boards on the crane. I was coming back from classes since my teacher didn’t show up and I saw the crane falling on the house. Many other houses have been damaged. Hopefully, everyone was at work or at school. I ended up moving in here with my Grandma.”

Thomas was open-mouthed, watching the dark-skinned boy. Alby handed him a newspaper with a photography of the crane on the house that the Borrower looked at with wide eyes. It was surreal, like a destroyed doll house. The human sighed.

“I’ve been looking for you.”

“You have?” Thomas looked up at him, surprised.

“Yeah... I told everyone that I had a cat called Thomas so I could call you but I couldn’t hear anything. Your voice is pretty low, even when you scream, so I wondered a hundred times if you were answering me and I couldn’t hear you. When they told me that the basement had collapsed, I... Thought you were dead.”

The Borrower was dumbfounded, imagining the Big One in his house’s ruins calling for him. His heart clenched as his eyes watered. Alby was definitely a nice person, a Big One that he could trust, no matter what others could do, he was different. He sniffed and asked what was tearing at him from inside:

“Have you... Have you seen my parents?”

Alby looked at him with big eyes, realizing what the little one was asking him and what it meant. Sympathy passed over his eyes and, not feeling strong enough to answer, he slightly shook his head, only daring to say a weak “I’m sorry” to his friend. Thomas didn’t say anything, just blinking, tears rolling down his cheeks; he only nodded and dropped his gaze. For a few seconds, he had hoped. The dark-skinned boy slowly rubbed the Borrower’s arm with the tip of his finger, he couldn’t do much more without risking bruising the tiny boy. He presented his hand, palm to the sky, and let Thomas climb on it and cling to his thumb, holding it tightly in his minuscule arms for some comfort.

“Wanna stay here for tonight...?”

Thomas only nodded in silence, not daring to go back to the Glade, not feeling able to face Newt again. The blonde’s face and his last expression, last gaze, haunted his mind. And when Alby asked what he could bring him for the night, the little brunette just gave him a weak grateful smile:

“A matchbox... And cotton wool... Please?”

*************

“Newt? May I come in?” Minho asked, knocking for the third time.

“Go away.” A muffled voice answered.

“Newt, it’s already half past ten. You’ve been in there for at least eleven hours. Can I come in?” The Asian boy insisted.

“Which part of “go away” didn’t you get?” Newt groaned in return.

“Hmpf, someone’s grumpy.” His leader smiled and entered.

The garland lights were off and the room was plunged into darkness. But Minho knew how to navigate around the room and approached the bed in which the blonde was stubbornly buried. He sighed and sat on the edge of the matchbox, tousling Newt’s hair causing him to groan once more.

“You’re the shuckiest shuck faced shuck in the world, aren’t you?” The Asian Borrower smiled.

“What do you want, Minho?” The second-in-command growled as he straightened up in his bed, his hair dishevelled and his eyes shooting deathly lasers.

“Not a kiss from you, if it can soften your mood, my Dark Lord.” His friend smirked. “Come on, I have news.”

“What kind of news?” The blonde rubbed his face with both hands.

“I found them. Thomas’ parents.” Minho blurted.

“What?” Totally awake, Newt kneeled in his bed to look his friend in the eyes.

“That’s why I wanted to talk to you yesterday night. And hopefully to Thomas, but the shank didn’t show up this morning.” The Glade’s leader sighed. “D’you know where he is?”

“Yeah...” The blonde inhaled and sighed, feeling uneasy. “He’s in the Granny’s flat. The one from the second floor.”

“Why would he stay up there?” Minho frowned. “Heard you had a fight but...”

“He’s friends with a Big One.”

The Asian nodded at the revelation. Now he was getting why the two boys had had a fight. He scratched his scalp, thinking it through. There was not a slight chance that Newt had appreciated the brunette befriending a Big One. But somehow, he had to find Thomas. He had been an orphan for as long as he could remember and he just couldn’t bear the idea of just letting it go and turning a blind eye to it. He sighed and decided to report the entirety of the news to his friend:

“His parents have last been seen at the other side of the neighbourhood. Alive. It’s a four day walk but I passed around the message of Thomas’ presence here. It will spread across the Borrowers’ cities and villages all around. They will hear about it and come here soon.”

“Alright...” Newt nodded slowly.

“There’s something more.”

“What?”

“His father’s name. It’s Jorge Edison.” Minho announced.

The name rang a bell in Newt’s mind but he didn’t know why. This name was familiar somehow but too far away in his brain. He looked up at Minho and, upon seeing his friend struggling with it, he sighed and murmured.

“It’s the man who helped me to rescue you eight years ago, Newt.”

The blonde’s eyes widened at this, remembering the man he had seen then, the one who had stood beside Minho to help him despite his danger. Despite the Big One. His friend was looking him straight in the eye and understanding flashed in his eyes.

“We owe him his son, don’t you think?” Minho gently grinned.

 

 **To be continued...**      


	8. Asking for help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the necessity oversteps Newt's pride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betad by lovely FifiB!
> 
> It gets a little more dramatic but hey, that's what we call adventure. Hope you will like it!
> 
> ****

“So you're going...” It was not a question, more like a statement.

“Yeah.” Thomas sighed lightly before smiling to his friend. “I'm a Borrower. I belong with them. And I just can't wait for Newt to forgive me: he came for me, so now it's my turn to go to him.”

It was what had come into his mind during the night. He did not expect the blond to shrug and hug him but they needed to talk, he can't just leave everything like that. He was a Borrower: if he wanted something, he had to go for it. Newt was a person he cherished as a friend, and he felt like a special bond with him since the moment they had shared the day before. No, Thomas definitely couldn't accept leaving their relationship to rot like this. He secured his backpack and looked to Alby, smiling.

“I'm glad I could see you again. That we could speak again.”

“So am I.” The dark-skinned boy smiled. “Will I see you again?”

“Yeah. I will stop by now and then. I promise.”

And with those words, Thomas let Alby put him on the counter of the kitchen. He waved him goodbye and dived into darkness. He hadn't thought of that: he had no light to chase the dark, and had to put a hand on the wall to follow his path. Should he go back to Alby and ask for a candle? No, he surely could manage that: he was a Borrower, a runner, he would make it. His hand found the rope they used to secure themselves and to prevent them from falling. He was about to attach himself when an idea came to him: the Builders' system.

He would be in the basement in no time, plus he wouldn't risk missing a step and falling. He didn't want the others to find him dangling between two cloves, his life only maintained by his security rope. Nope. He didn't fancy the idea at all. So he walked back, a hand on the wall, looking for the system. The wall was dirty and rough but Thomas didn't stop to wonder what he could find on it. When his fingers brushed the thread he was looking for, a wide smile pulled on his lips; he looked for the end of it and passed it around his waist. Making sure the knot was strong enough, he headed to the edge of the path. He was going to plunge into darkness.

“You, my friend, have a death wish.” He groaned to himself. “Nah, you checked it before with Newt: the thread is just long enough... Yeah, just long en-“

He couldn't finish his sentence as the ground disappeared under his feet. He let out a scream, his heart rushing as he felt the air wiping his face and body. But before he could even realise it, he was laughing and wooing. He was definitely insane. His laugh was suddenly cut by the abrupt stopping: the thread was at its end. A little moment of panic rose in him as his feet were still dangling in the air, but by extending one, he let out a sigh of relief when he felt the ground at his toes. 

“That was awesome!” He smiled to himself, his fingers looking for the knot he had tied to secure himself. 

Suddenly, a sound to his left made him jerk up his face. It had been some kind of ruffling noise. His eyes searched in the dark but he could see nothing, not even his own fingers trying to undo the knot. He swallowed his heart racing in his chest and temples.

“Newt...?” He called with uncertainty.

Another rattling noise rose in the dark, causing Thomas to jump: it was getting closer and it was definitely not a Borrower! Panicking, he tried to catch his knife in his backpack. 

“How stupid!” He muttered hastily to himself as he remembered he hadn't taken a needle with him when going to the Men land.

The knife was his only chance. And he couldn't reach it. He swore and then attacked the thread with his teeth with the energy of despair: he hadn't escaped from a cat to die eaten by who knew what! It was getting closer and closer. Thomas felt blood in his mouth as he was tearing the thread apart. Thankfully, he suddenly felt himself falling and crashing hardly on the ground. But he didn't mind the pain and put a hand on the wall to check where it was before breaking into a desperate run. He heard a sound just near his ear and he just ran faster: he couldn't see but he knew it was teeth snapping. He could see the light at the end of the corridor. It wasn't far. He could do it. He could hear the thing running after him.

“HELP!!!” He cried without stopping. “HELP!!!”

The workshop was the nearest building from the entrance of the corridor. Gally frowned and stopped working as he heard the first scream. It was quite low first but the builder trusted himself quite enough to know he hadn't imagined it. At the second scream, quickly followed by a dangerous squeal, he knew. Grabbing the nearest weapon he had, a dessert fork, he just headed to the corridor, shouting at the top of his lungs.

“RAT!!! RAAAAAT!!!”

The other builders were the fastest to react, grabbing pikes and crochet needles. They knew too well how deadly a rat could be. Newt and Minho stood up from their cork-benches, letting their plates fall to the ground as they grabbed their weapons and ran along with Frypan and some others to the corridor. Newt wished he had something more than a needle, like Minho who used a stick with a deadly sharp piece of cutter blade at each end.

A cry of agony froze the blonde's blood: it was Thomas voice. He ran even faster and, upon arriving at the corridor, he saw Gally and the builders attacking a rat. It was nearly twice their height. On the ground, Thomas was pulling himself out of the battle, his side drowning in blood. Minho let out a loud battle cry to galvanise his men as much as to frighten the animal, launching himself into the battle. Newt ran to the animal's side as the others distracted it and plunged his needle into the beast. The rat let out a shriek and tried to catch him, its teeth clashing within an inch of him. Gally took his chance to attack the animal, along with Minho, and they struck it. The rat shrieked again and retreated in the darkness, leaving Newt to fall against the wall. He grimaced but stood up immediately.

“Tommy!”

He ran to the brunette. Frypan had already sent someone to seek Jeff and Clint when the blonde got to them. The second-in-command landed on his knees, ignoring the pain and grabbing his friend's head.

“Tommy!” He called, his heart missing a beat as he saw the brunette's eyes fighting to focus on him. “It's me! Newt! Come on, look at me! Stay with me! Medics are coming!”

“Newt...” A weak smile appeared on Thomas' lips, his skin was damp with sweat under the blonde's touch.

“Don't talk!” Newt ordered him. “The shuck’re they doing? JEFF! CLINT!!”

“We're here!” Jeff answered, running to them. “Give me space!”

Newt obeyed, moving himself above Thomas' head. The boy didn't let him out of his sight, his eyes following him as if he was afraid he might vanish into thin air. Gently, the blonde caressed his forehead and hair, forcing himself not to shake and smiling.

“It's gonna be okay, Tommy. You have to fight, mate: Minho found them, Tommy. He found your parents. So don't give up, okay?”

Thomas gave him a shaking smile and nodded slightly. But his eyes rolled and he lost conscious, Newt's heart stopping at the sight. He gave little claps on his friend's cheeks.

“No! No no no no no! Tommy! Stay with me!”

“He has lost a lot of blood already.” Clint whispered. 

“We stopped him from losing too much.” Jeff informed Newt and Minho, who was standing behind his second-in-command. “But a rat's bite is too much for us. We can't save him.”

“What?” The blonde's eyes widened. “What do you mean you can't save him?!”

“Man, this is beyond our skills. We got our jobs here just as you did.” The medic said, almost apologetically. 

It was like the blood had left Newt's face, like his heart had totally frozen. He couldn't and wouldn't blame Jeff and Clint: they always did their best. He sat there a few seconds, his mind blank. Was Thomas going to die? After they had fought? After he had told him that he was more like a Big One than one of them? Knowing what he thought about Big Ones? No, that couldn't be happening. The blond felt like he was going to cry, blinking furiously.

He looked up at his friends. He could see the sympathy in their eyes, even in Gally's who didn't appreciate the brunette. To die from a rat's bite was not pretty a way to die. Minho slightly squeezed Newt's shoulder in his hand.

“I'm sorry, mate... There's nothing we can do...”

“Maybe not us...” The second-in-command whispered as his eyes widened at the idea building in his mind. “Maybe not us!”

“Newt?” The Asian frowned, not getting the blonde's point.

Newt bolted up and took the needle from the hands of another Borrower nearby under the confused gaze of his friends. He had no time. He barked for a backpack and Ben, who was supposed to leave just before the incident, gave him his own.

“What are you doing?” He asked, concerned.

“No time!” The blonde blurted, putting on the backpack. “Just put him in the garden! Maybe HE can do something!”

And with that, he dashed down the corridor. He just took the time to light a candle and started running again, praying not to run into that rat. Thankfully he arrived at their stairs, he secured himself and climbed as fast as he could. His lungs were burning, his legs aching and his heart threatening to let him down but he kept running. The light of the candle was flickering with the speed, and maybe because of that, his foot missed one clove. He fell, the security rope saving his life as he dangled between two cloves, a burning pain in one leg.

“Shuck!” He cursed as the candle fell in the emptiness.

The heart thundering frantically in his chest, he moved his feet. Nothing broken on first sight. He pulled at the rope and climbed back on the cloves. He had to hurry. For Thomas. Gulping, he panted a second or two and broke once more into a run, ignoring the risk of dashing into the dark with those clove-stairs as he had no time. Every second counted. 

He finally arrived at the hole in the wall and hurried himself in, arriving on the counter. He stopped dead upon seeing the Grandma in the kitchen. Luckily for him, she was turned the other way, only showing him her back. Without thinking twice, he spotted a wire running from a device to the ground: the Grandma must have use it and unplugged it; he just launched himself from the counter and grabbed the wire in his arms. It burnt but he bit his bottom lip and held on. Landing on the ground, he dashed again: where was HE? He took a look in the living room and saw no one.

“Bloody shank!” He gritted between his teeth.

He would have to check all the rooms. Breaking into a new run, he clenched his teeth as a burning pain came back in the leg he had bruised with the cloves. Limping, he kept going and headed to the first room he saw. The door was closed but he could easily pull himself under it. It was a small room compared to the living room, but Newt didn't have the chance to evaluate the size before four paws landed in front of him. The cat! He didn't even think, finding himself yelling angrily at the animal.

“DON'T YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT IT, YOU BLOODY BASTARD! I'VE GOT NO TIME FOR YOUR BLOODY SHIT!!!”

Not used to being yelled at so fiercely by such a tiny being, the cat stayed startled, only staring at the Borrower in genuine surprise. His cry of anger must have been quite loud since a figure appeared behind the cat: Alby was sat in a chair at a desk, raising his eyebrows at the sight of Newt. He got up and picked up the shocked cat in his arms before the animal changed his mind and smiled, amused.

“You're Thomas' friend. You have a pretty amazing temper for your size, if I might say.”

All his instinct cried the blonde to run as fast as he could, far away from that giant: he was so much taller than the human boy he had in his memories since Alby was probably the size of an adult already. But he stayed, panting, looking at him dead in the eye, only slightly shaking and saying those words he never thought he would ever say to one of them.

“Hey, Big One. I'm here to ask for your help.”

“My help?” Alby's smile vanished at the Borrower's seriousness. “What for?”

“Thomas has been bitten by a rat. He has already bled a lot. And there's nothing we, Borrowers, can do.” His voice shook with emotion as his hands fisted and his eyes blinked furiously, not allowing him to cry in front of the human. “I don't trust you. But you're my only hope to save him from certain death. So... I'm begging you, now, that if you have a way to save him... Please, do it.”

The dark-skinned boy was in shock at all this information, almost dropping his cat. He might have taken too long to digest all that because Newt inhaled deeply and said:

“I'll do whatever you want but please, save Tommy.”

Alby looked at the tiny blonde before offering a small smile and shook his head: he wouldn't ask anything of the little one. He put the cat on the desk and came back to Newt, offering him his hand, palm up. Newt hesitated for a second, his eyes going from the hand to the boy, and then he jumped in. Alby took him to his shoulder, letting the Borrower to install himself in the collar of his hoodie. He opened his desk drawer and took the matchbox with the wool cotton inside, pocketing it as he left the room. Newt slid himself in a fold of the hoodie's collar to make sure he wouldn't fall while the tall boy was running.

“What's that box?” He asked, bewildered.

“Thomas' bed.” The dark-skinned boy answered. “He will be easier to carry in it.”

Newt felt his heart skip a beat: Thomas had slept in a replica of his bed? He felt more and more awful about the way they last talked to each other, or better the way he had spat at the brunette's face. Determinedly, he concentrated on Alby who was making a call as he ran down the stairs of the building.

“Teresa? Alby. I need your help. Are you alone at the clinic?”

 _“It's Saturday, Alby. I'm always alone on Saturdays.”_  Newt heard the voice's answer.  _“What's the matter?”_

“A rat bite. Coming.” And the Big One hanged up. “I'll take you to-“

“A clinic. I heard.” The blonde cut him.

“You heard?” Alby raised his eyebrows.

“We, Borrowers, can hear a lot of things. Ah, here! Turn right! He's in the garden.”

The dark-skinned boy obeyed and turned, stopping at the narrow alley between the building and the hedge. He sighed and had to sidle through the passage, his broad shoulders not helping much. Newt indicated the narrow window at the foot of the building. The Borrowers had hidden their encampment behind a curtain, only Minho was to be seen, standing aside of a large leaf under which lay Thomas. The Asian was standing straight and if he was afraid, he didn't show it, holding two long cloves in his hands like twin blades.

“Minho! It's me!” Newt shouted. 

He ran down Alby's arm when the human squatted. The Asian Borrower allowed himself to breathe, not liking even a bit to have a Big One so close to their home. He nodded slowly when his second-in-command informed him that they were taking Thomas to a clinic, and he frowned a bit more when the blonde added that he was going with the human.

“As usual, if I'm not back before dark or if I didn't give news, assume that we are dead.”

Alby was dumbfounded to hear that while delicately putting tiny Thomas in the matchbox, looking at the two little ones giving each other a quick hug before Newt got back in his hand. The blonde climbed in the matchbox with his friend.

“You guys say pretty depressing things.” Alby commented.

“Told you that I don't trust you. We don't trust Big Ones for a good reason.” Newt replied. “Thomas is an exception.”

The tall boy slowly nodded and closed the matchbox, leaving it just ajar, as he put it in his hoodie's front pocket. He took his bike and pedalled as if his own life depended on it. The clinic wasn't very far, twenty minutes biking at most, but he wanted to hurry: who knew how long Thomas could hold on. He almost killed himself by crossing a street without braking and stopped with a shrieking sound in front of the clinic. Looking around and seeing nobody, he took the matchbox out of his pocket.

“You two alright?”

“I'm gonna throw up, you shank!” Newt growled.

Alby had just a little smile before he entered. The Borrower shut his mouth, feeling suddenly very conscious of the proximity of another Big One; he slowly kneeled and took the brunette in his arms, Thomas’ head resting against his stomach. He whispered softly that everything was going to be alright. And then he heard the other voice and remained silent.

“Hey, Alby!” It was a nice timbre of voice: soft and a little passive sometimes. “Where's Winston? Thought it had been bitten by a rat...?”

“No, it's not Winston.” Alby replied. “Can we go in the consultation room?”

“Sure.”

Newt gulped. The moment had come. Without really acknowledging it, he had put an arm around Thomas' torso and had a hand on his needle. But what would he do against a Big One with a ridiculous needle? He knew it was hopeless if one of them decided to smash them, but he held his ground, needle clear.

Teresa was looking at Alby with concerned eyes: she had known the boy for a few years now and could tell when something was wrong. And there was definitely something. She watched as he delicately put a matchbox on her table. Frowning, she locked the door and came to him, wondering what he had brought to her. It visibly was something very fragile for the way he was looking at the box, his fingers gently holding it.

“You're the only one who can help me, Teresa.”

“What's going on, Alby? You're scaring me.” She murmured.

“Well... I need you to promise me to not tell anyone about this, okay? And also don't freak out.” The dark-skinned boy asked.

She frowned a bit more and wanted to question him, but when seeing his eyes, the determination and also the need in them, she just nodded. But nothing had prepared her for what she saw when her friend opened the box: the unconscious Borrower and his protector looking fiercely at her. She jumped and stepped back to the wall.

“Oh my God!”

“Teresa, calm down, please!” Alby begged.

“What the...?” She looked at him and then at the two tiny beings.

Open-mouthed, she approached slowly, leaning in as she came closer. Newt and she were staring, one in astonishment, and the other in pure defiance. She couldn't believe what she was looking at: how could such small human beings exist? Because that was what they looked like: very tiny human beings? Nothing could differentiate them if not their size. Or maybe their very slightly pointed ears. She looked up at her friend in disbelief.

“Are they... Elves?”

“No.” Alby smiled slightly, still nervous. “Borrowers. That's what they called themselves.”

“They speak?” Teresa gasped.

“Of course we speak, you shank!” Newt then replied, loud enough to be heard, causing the girl to jump.

“Oh my God...!” She whispered again.

“Thomas has been bitten by a rat, T.” Alby spoke again. “Can you help him? You're the only person I could come to.”

The dark-haired girl looked at him in disbelief. Her? She was a vet! And not a real one yet, just a trainee! She wanted to argue but the look her friend gave her spoke for him: there was no one else he could trust. She swallowed and slowly nodded.

“I'll see what I can do.” She leant on the matchbox. “What's your name?”

“... Newt.” The blonde replied, visibly struggling into trusting her.

“Okay, Newt. I need you to get him out of the box. Can you do that, please?” She asked.

The Borrower stared at her for a second or two before nodding. Getting on his feet, he slid the needle back through the fabric of his pants at his waist and tried his best to get the brunette out of the matchbox without hurting him more than he already was.

“I'm gonna get a magnifying glass. Be right back.” Teresa said before leaving to another room.

“Hey, Newt, is it?” Alby called him, speaking lowly so the girl wouldn't hear him. “I don't know what “shank” means but let me tell you something: Teresa will do her best for Thomas so watch your tongue with her, okay?”

The blonde stared at him with a scowl but nodded nonetheless, showing that he had heard the reprimand. Teresa came back quickly with all she needed and asked the Borrower a few questions while inspecting the other one's injury. Then both of the boys were shooed to the waiting room as she began her work. Newt didn't want to leave Thomas but he knew he had to and climbed once more on Alby's shoulder. The dark-skinned boy went to the waiting room and sighed.

“I hope everything will be okay...”

“Why wouldn't it?” The tiny blonde asked, looking suspiciously at him.

“First time a human heals a Borrower, I guess. I know nothing of medicine and all so... I hope Teresa can do it.” Alby murmured.

“Yeah... Me too.” Newt sighed.

“Do you still hate me?” The tall boy questioned.

“I still don't like you.” The Borrower corrected.

“Well, I'm gonna think of that as kind of progress.” He laughed slightly.

Newt smiled, knowing that the Big One couldn't see him. Maybe Alby was a bit different. Or this Teresa girl. He didn't know. All his instincts told him that he shouldn't be sitting on the boy's shoulder. But Thomas was so convinced that they could trust him. And the brunette was effectively naive but he wasn't dumb. After long minutes of deafening silence, the Borrower almost jumped when Alby talked to him.

“Wanna see our world?”

“What?” The blonde looked at him with wide eyes.

“Thomas told me you hate humans and that you have your reasons but I'm betting you don't know anything of us.” The dark-skinned boy smiled. “What about I show you around? It's raining so you can hide in my hood.”

“But... What about Tommy?” Newt wondered, feeling a bit nervous again.

“Teresa is taking care of him. Plus she has my number. She will call when she is finished.”

The Borrower hesitated. The idea of leaving Thomas there was not very attractive. But what could he do? He sighed and accepted the offer. Alby smiled brightly and put on his hood, allowing the little being to hide in it, and he went in the street. Newt looked at the world with curiosity: he had never tried to imagine what vision a Big One could have. It was huge. He felt even bigger than a dog! Bigger than many Big Ones! He felt his heart running with excitement.

Alby took him first to a bakery, letting the little one look with wonder all around. He paid for an assortment of little pastries and then took the tiny blond to a market. Newt had never seen so much food or so many Big Ones, he felt a strange mix of excitement and nervousness, his eyes darting all around. But from where he was, he could see many things that he had never thought of: kids playing and running to their parents, happy faces. As for them, Borrowers: a laugh was a laugh and a slap was a slap. Humans and Borrowers might be more alike than he thought. But still they had the strength to smash them. Grimacing at the thought, Newt looked away and his eyes widened.

“Big One!” He called at his ear. “There are strawberries! But it's not the season, how can this be?”

The dark-skinned boy smiled and found a place where he could whisper, the Borrower's ear able to hear him above the sound of the crowd.

“It's because they come from another country. Just like you judging by your accent.”

“Oh... That's why.” The blonde murmured.

“D'you like strawberries?” Alby asked.

“What? Huh, n-no, no, I was just being curious.” 

The tall boy laughed slightly and headed to the fruit merchant, ignoring the little one protests. He bought a little box of strawberries and went back to the veterinarian cabinet. In the waiting room, he opened his jacket and sat, making sure by holding the side of his jacket, no one coming from the outside would see the tiny blonde. He opened the box of fruits and let the Borrower get down of his shoulder. Newt approached the fruits and smelled: it was a nice smell of sugar that caused his stomach to rumble.

He hesitated, looking from the fruits to Alby. Never had a Big One had genuinely offered him something. Not just to please him. His hands went for one of the strawberries but retracted before even touching it, and he looked up to the tall boy.

“Can I have one?”

“Of course. They are for you. I'll put them in the garden where we picked up Thomas, for you and your friends.” Alby smiled.

Newt looked at him quite astonished. The entire box? He felt a little fidgety and approached the fruit again, climbing in the box to sit on the edge, he caressed the red skin of a strawberry. His dark eyes looked up again to the human, his face showing his struggle to formulate the words.

“Thanks... Big One.”

“You’re welcome.” The dark-skinned boy slyly grinned. “And by the way: it’s Alby. Not Big One.”

“Big One is more accurate.” Newt replied with a small smirk.

“I see you’re already taking your marks.” Alby groaned, rolling his eyes, but still with a smile at the idea of the blonde being a little less wild.

“I’m not.” The Borrower growled and chose to concentrate on the strawberry he bit into. 

They stayed silent for a while, Alby not wanting to waste what little progress he had made with the tiny boy. The only sound in the room, besides their mastication, was the stressful sound of the clock on the wall: the minutes were passing slowly as slugs and the two boys were getting more and more nervous. Newt had ate almost a quarter of is strawberry when he just dropped it, not feeling in the mood to eat more, his stomach felt like it was knotted. He looked up to the dark-skinned boy, biting at his bottom lip.

“Alby...?”

“Hm?”

“Is it... Usually this long?” The blonde asked, nervous. 

“I don’t know, Newt.” Alby shook his head. “I normally take Winston here for little things.”

“How can you call a cat Winston?” The Borrower rolled his eyes.

“What should I call it then?” The human slightly laughed.

“Griever.” Newt answered, shrugging with a grin on his face that quickly faded into a more concerned expression. “Do you think Tommy is gonna make it?”

Alby stopped eating and dropped his gaze to the little one. Newt’s dark eyes were staring at him and somehow he could read the anxiety behind the pride: the blonde really cared, the dark-skinned boy could say that much. He smiled gently and murmured.

“Honestly, I don’t know but... Keep trusting him. I’m sure he can feel it.”

Newt didn’t reply, looking at him in the eyes before turning his attention to the door of the consultation room. Alby was right, he needed to believe in Thomas: the brunette was going to make. He mustn’t doubt it. He slowly intertwined his fingers, his knuckles going white.

_Come on, Tommy. You can make it. Come back to me. Please._

Then he heard it: Teresa’s pace coming towards them from behind the door.

 

**To be continued...**


	9. Wounded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They go home and Newt can even speak to Alby. But then his body finds his own limits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Incredible FifiB betad this chapter! Thank you!
> 
> ****

The sound of the locker echoed in the waiting room and Teresa opened the door. She looked exhausted, as if she hadn't slept in days, sweat shining on her pale skin, her eyes slightly red. Newt's heart jumped at the sight of her and he stepped forward to the edge of Alby's knee, ignoring the bursting pain in his own leg. It didn't matter. Nothing did. He looked her dead in the eye, not even trying to hide his concern or his fear; she could almost see the begging in his dark eyes. She finally offered him a smile, a tired but bright smile.

“He is out of danger. He will live, Newt.”

It was like the tiny blonde just remembered how to breathe, putting a hand on his chest and murmuring something they couldn't hear but was probably something like “Thank God”. Teresa smiled tenderly and looked to Alby, silently inviting him to come in the consultation room with a slight movement of her head. The dark-skinned boy obliged and offered his hand palm up to Newt so the small being could climb in it. They went inside and Newt held his breath as they approached from the table: Thomas was lying there, his t-shirt cut into shreds at his side, leaving him half-naked. Teresa had cut small bandages so she could cover the brunette's injuries properly and she had put an oxygen mask all over the Borrower. Alby put the tiny blonde on the surgery table and watched him as he slowly approached the mask, his hands leaning on it, staring at Thomas from behind

Newt rested his forehead against the plastic and breathed shallowly as he digested the idea that the brunette would get better. When had that guy became so important to him? How did he manage to make him first risk his own life and then have sex with him to finally make him stand in a room with two Big Ones? The tiny blonde didn't know, he couldn't explain it, but it was now his reality. He slowly turned his gaze towards Teresa, mouth slightly open as he searched for the right words: how could he say what he was feeling right now? He managed to say the only words that he found suitable without bursting into tears:

“Thank you... Thanks for him.”

The blue-eyed girl smiled to him and slightly shook her head: the gratitude in the Borrower's eyes was all she could ask for. Alby thanked the girl too, proposing to pay for the consultation but Teresa refused and only gave few instructions to Newt for Thomas to follow back home. They had to go pretty fast after that to not risk meeting another Big One taking his animal to the vet, Teresa assuring them that Thomas could be transported. So they were back on the road, Alby on his bike with the two little beings in the matchbox in his pocket.

Newt was holding Thomas so he wasn't moving too much during the ride. He had taken off his hoodie and put it on the brunette to replace the torn apart t-shirt. He was now only in his tank top, trembling slightly because of the cold, muttering

“You better get better, you slinthead.”

Alby took them to the window at the foot of the building and wasn't even surprised to find Minho waiting for them. He put the matchbox on the ground and greeted the Asian as he approached. Newt got out of the box first and then looked at the dark-skinned boy for a moment before saying

“Alby?”

“Yeah?” He tried to not look too pleased by being called his name by the tiny blonde.

“Can you wait a bit? There's something I'd like you to have.”

Alby raised his eyebrows but nodded. Minho took Thomas as gently as he could on his back to carry him to the medics, Newt following him. Alby wondered what he was supposed to wait for but just stayed there, squatting and hoping that no one would spot him there: the last thing he wanted was to give away the little ones' home. After a few minutes, the curtain slightly parted and the tall boy's eyes widened: a few Borrowers were carrying something quite heavy for them which appeared to be his IPod and earphones. He stayed dumbfounded as Gally, Zart, Frypan and a few others put the thing on the ground and ran back to their encampment, only leaving Newt behind them. The tiny blond looked up to him, one hand on the device.

“Guess it's yours. Your name is carved on the back.”

“I... Where did you get that? I thought I had lost it...” Alby whispered.

“We found it in the entry alley of the building. It must have slipped out of your bag when you came to visit your grandmother.” The Borrower shrugged. “But sometimes, borrowed things have to be returned. So here is yours. As a thank you... For today.”

The human looked down at the tiny boy. Newt offered him only a kind of smirk before getting back to the window and then behind the dark curtain. He still didn't like the dark-skinned boy, but the least he could do was to show some respect, as long as it was mutual. And somehow Alby had seen it in the blonde, smiling slightly: how could someone be so tiny and yet have so much pride? He chuckled and, before getting back to the apartment, he left the little box of strawberries.

********

It was a succession of nightmares, but not distinct ones, just a constant blur. Sometimes there were faces above him, on a dark background, sometimes there were just muffled sounds or voices. He felt feverish and then icy cold. What was happening to him?

“Hey, he's waking up! Call Minho!” A voice rose nearby.

He frowned, trying to clear his vision as he slowly opened his eyes. Jeff was at his side. The information didn't quite get into his brain at first: why was Jeff here? Leaning on him? Why was his skin so damp? He opened his mouth to speak but only a strangled noise echoed in the room. It was like having sand in his mouth and throat.

“Wait, don't speak mate. Drink first.” Jeff insisted, putting a hand under his head to help him and bringing a leaf full of water to his lips.

He obeyed, drinking the liquid with relief: the water was cold and he felt extremely warm again. The medic waited for him to drink it all and then put a cold towel on his forehead. The boy sighed at the welcomed touch. What had happened? His brain couldn't bring itself to remember anything. Voices rose again and Minho entered hastily in the room.

“Minho...?” His voice croaked.

“How do you feel?” The Asian asked, kneeling at his side without pushing Jeff.

“Like shit. What happened?” He tried to move but his all body was aching.

“You fainted.” His leader and friend informed him.

“I what?” He eyes widened.

“You fainted, Newt.” Minho repeated with an angrier expression. “Your injured leg got infected.”

“What the hell were you thinking?” Chuck growled, acknowledging his presence in a corner of the room.

Newt looked at them hastily, mouth slightly opened. Was his leg that bad? It hurt but he didn't think it would be that much of a problem: he had been too concerned about Thomas and had thought he could ask Jeff or Clint to have a look at it afterwards. But even if he wasn't a doctor, he knew that fainting wasn't a good sign. He sighed and looked at his friend Minho who looked actually quite annoyed, only making the blond sigh more deeply.

“I didn't mean to let it get that bad.”

“Hope so.” The Asian growled. “Or it would mean you got pretty stupid without me noticing.”

“Well, you can't find your ass even with a map so I don’t expect you to notice something at all...”

The two boys stared at each other for long seconds before chuckling, Minho shaking his head: what was he going to do with that brat? He sat on the edge of the scarf that the medics used as bed and he patted Newt's shoulder.

“You really sucked.”

“You have no idea.” The blond slyly smiled when remembering what he had done with Thomas when they were trapped together.

“Newt...” His leader and friend growled, visibly getting the idea even without asking.

“That would be me.” The injured smiled.

“I’m being serious, Newt.” Minho groaned.

“I know. And I don't  like it.” Newt sighed, biting his bottom lip and looking up to his friend as he got on his elbows. “How bad?”

“Clint and Jeff said that you might have a limp all your life.”

It was like something very heavy hit his head. A limp? He swallowed and simply nodded, getting back in a laying position, his eyes tickling. Feeling his friend's fingers squeezing his shoulder in an attempt to provide comfort, he just put an arm on his eyes, murmuring lowly.

“Sorry, I'm  tired... Can you leave, please? All of you.”

Minho breathed in deeply and looked up to Jeff and Chuck, silently ordering them to get out of the room. He gently ruffled the fair strands before getting up and exiting. They all knew that a limp could be the end of a Borrower: they needed to be fast, strong and able to run long distances. Sometimes needing to run for their lives. Minho didn't like it because he knew it would deeply affect his second-in-command but he would have to make the decision: Newt wouldn't be a runner anymore. The Asian wouldn't risk his best friend's life in the Men Land more than he had already.

Newt knew it of course and the silent tears ran down his temples to his hair. He was broken. But for real this time. He would have to depend on the others to eat. He would have to wait for the runners to come back from their hunt. He would have to stay behind.  Maybe if he had mentioned it to the human girl, she might have been able to do something for his leg. But now it was too late. He breathed deeply and took off his arm of his eyes, looking at the ceiling, his voice only a whisper.

“Don't fall apart. Keep your klunk together. Don't fall apart.” His voice was shaking but he kept repeating those words as if to make them sink in.

He wanted to cry and to scream. But he didn't, too conscious of the others around the Medic area. They relied on him. He couldn't disappoint them or freak them out: he was second-in-command, he had to keep going, for them. He wiped his tears away and forced himself to breath slowly and deeply, trying to keep a hold on his emotions and listing in his mind what he still could do: as second-in-command he would keep enforcing order in the Glade, be sure that everyone would do the necessary share of work, eat properly, and be safe... He would work with Gally to see if their tools couldn't be improved, or see with Chuck if the runners' backpacks shouldn't be reorganised. Yes, there was still work for him. There was. Another tear ran from the corner of his eye to his hair line and he whispered.

“Who are you trying to fool...?”

He pressed his hands against his eyes and sobbed in silence.

When Minho came back an hour or so later, Newt had dried his tears and was just resting a bit, but his eyes shot open as soon as his leader and friend stepped into the room. The blond straightened up to sit: he had been going mad in there, he needed to move or at least talk about outside things. The Asian stopped at the bedside and looked down to him, concern in his eyes even if he was good at hiding his emotions: he couldn't stay indifferent when his best friend lay in a medic bed, right? He sighed and groaned.

“There's something I want you to see.”

“What thing?” Newt frowned.

“Come. I'll carry you.” The dark-haired boy was turning his back to the blonde to let him climb on his back.

“I can walk.” The second-in-command tried, not even knowing if his leg could carry him but still wanting to stand by himself.

“Slim it, Newt.”

There was something in the Asian's tone that prevented the blonde even trying to protest again and he nodded. He winced at a terrible pain in his leg when hitting it by accident and he inhaled deeply before knotting his arms around his friend's neck. Minho grabbed Newt's legs, watching out for the injured one and they went out of the room. The blonde didn't like to be looked at by the others in such bad shape but his leader didn't really give him the choice. They went through the Glade to go to the Workshop where Gally was working with a few others. He stopped as soon as he looked up to them.

“Newt... “

“Hi Gally.” The blonde offered him an embarrassed smile.

“Feel better?” The builder asked, concerned.

“Yeah, thanks.” It wasn't totally a lie: he didn't feel feverish, it was progress.

“Can you show him?” Minho interrupted.

“Sure.”

Newt raised an eyebrow as his eyes followed Gally to a shelf where a sheet lay, covering something. The builders' keeper took it off, revealing two crutches made out of matches glued together and leather laces. It was actually the first time Newt saw a pair of those for real. He had seen ones in a war movie when he had gone in the Men Land and had sat on top of a sideboard whilst the family was watching TV. He looked up to Gally and then Minho.

“For me?”

“It will help you to walk for the next few days.” Minho nodded.

“Yeah.” Gally agreed. “I'd never have thought of that if Thomas hadn't-”

“Thomas?” Newt repeated, his head bolting up. “Are you telling me that you actually worked with Tommy on this?”

“... Yes.” Now the builder looked a bit annoyed but the blonde did not care.

“Where is he?” He asked hastily.

“Just in the back.” Gally thumbed a place behind him.

There was a small wooden wall and behind it Newt could spot a bed made of wool squares and two feet on it. It was Thomas' bed. The one he had thrown by the door. He gulped at the memory and realisation hit him in the face like a punch: Thomas woke up before him, he had seen his bed out of the blonde's room. What must have he thought? Felt? He bit his bottom lip, feeling embarrassed and ashamed. He was angry at that time but now it felt so far away. He didn't even know how long he had been unconscious for but enough time for the brunette to wake up and work with Gally on this project.

His gaze dropped to the working table and his eyes widened: there were a lot of papers, pieces that humans threw away because they didn't need them anymore, but on the blank side, Newt saw many drawings. He knew what it was without needing a closer look: it was a basket in which people could climb in and that lifted them in the air thanks to series of ropes. It was the project Thomas imagined when they were coming back from the Men Land on the first time. Gally noticed his shocked expression and scratched his scalp, muttering:

“It's not finished. We are still working on it. Thomas came up with that idea so you could go up there without using the clove-stairs...”

Newt saw his vision turning into a blur as his eyes began to water. He pressed a hand to his mouth as he fought back the sobbing, shaking against the Asian's back. Minho turned slightly his head so he could look at him sideways and murmured:

“Gally told me that Thomas has been working on it since he woke up...” he gave him a small slyly smile. “You two think about each other too much for your own good, you know that?”

The builder had a slyly smile too, only nodding at that. He hadn’t come to like Thomas yet, but he tolerated him much more than before. He had seen beyond his feelings after the good idea the brunette had. They had started working on it: Thomas giving his ideas as they came and Gally explaining to him how and why his ideas were good or unrealistic. Thomas was yet to rest so he was giving all his best to put ideas on paper whilst he was awake. Newt felt like fidgeting and pressed a bit more Minho in his arms, earning a groan.

“Newt, you're strangling me.”

“Sorry.” The blonde sniffed and let go slightly. “Min'?”

“Hm?” The Asian looked sideways again.

“Can I ask you a favour?” His second-in-command asked.

“Shoot.” But Minho gave an understanding look to Gally who just shrugged, smiling.

“When Tommy’s up... Could you bring his bed back in my room? Please?”

Minho smiled and nodded: Newt wasn't the kind to ask a favour whenever he felt like it, every single one he has asked the Asian were meaningful for him. The dark-haired boy just wondered how those two had connected in such a short time, knowing that the blonde was nice to everyone but always a bit reserved. He just sat Newt on a board eraser that made kind of a bench and turned to look at him, smiling.

“What about you try those crutches?”

****

“Hey, waking up?”

Thomas frowned and blinked, trying to get his brain to work and focus on the Borrower talking to him. Gally was looking at him and folded his arms. The builder always looked like he was scowling but eventually he appeared to be quite nice on the inside. Just a bit stubborn. The brunette forced himself to sit on his bed and winced as a sharp pain shot in his side. He breathed heavily and Gally squatted in front of him.

“Easy there.” He growled. “Think you're Wolverine and can heal in a blink or what?”

“Wolve-what?” Thomas tried to repeat.

“Oh my... Forget about that.” The builder shook his head, muttering something about general culture. “Well, get up.”

“What’s the hurry?” The brunette mumbled but getting up nonetheless, accepting the boy’s hand to help him.

“Newt’s up. Guessed you wanted to talk with him.” The other boy shrugged.

Thomas’ face lit up and then faded in seconds. He bit his bottom lip and shook his head slightly; he didn’t feel like showing up in front of the second-in-command right now as he had made quite a mess of himself and had learnt when waking up that the blonde had been badly injured because of him. No, he couldn’t. Gally looked at him and sighed deeply, as if he was making his best effort not to punch some sense into the head of the Greenie.

“Listen. He asked that your bed returned to his room.”

“He has?” Thomas’ eyes widened, utterly in shock.

“Yup. So now, stop whining and get your ass to the campfire.” The builder groaned. “I’m so done with your shit.”

“Gally...” The brunette smiled and began to walk toward the exit. “Thank you. I’ll give you more ideas about the Upgo.”

“The what?” The other boy raised an eyebrow.

“The Upgo. That’s what I call it.” Thomas shrugged, looking back at him.

“It’s just an elevator, Greenie.” Gally sighed.

“A what?”

“Just GO!”

And Thomas hurried out of the Workshop, not running because of his side but walking as fast as he could. Why did the Glader always talk in terms he didn’t understand? The Upgo sounded better, didn’t it? He shook his head and walked toward the circle of cork-benches, feeling more and more nervous: what would he say to Newt? How would the blonde receive him? Would he scream at him? Would he consider him responsible for his wound? Which would be just fair according to Thomas. Arriving in view of the circle, he noticed Minho sitting near Newt and slowed his pace. He hadn’t talk much with the Asian but knew he was in command of the Glade and feared that his last miserable masterstrokes didn’t give the dark-haired boy many reasons to like him. But eventually, Minho spotted him and said something to his second-in-command before leaving in the direction of the Workshop. In Thomas’ direction. He didn’t even stop when he sighed.

“Get your klunk together. Both of you.”

Thomas stared at him for a few long seconds before looking back to the blonde. Newt hadn’t moved, he was sitting on one of the corks, with his back to him and totally oblivious to his presence. The brunette gulped and walked forward hesitantly, not knowing how he should approach his friend. Newt stiffened at some point and looked back, their eyes locking as they froze; but the blonde gave him a small smile and patted the cork inviting the brunette to move and sit at his side. Thomas obeyed and bit his lips as shot of pain pulled on his side, making him groan.

“Painful, isn't it?” Newt offered a sympathetic smile.

“Yeah... I won't even tell you about when I must go to the toilets and push.” His friend sighed. “Oh, wait, I just did.”

They both let out a slight laugh, Newt shaking his head and making a disgusted sound as his imagination did all the work. He gently slapped the brunette on the head, only causing him to laugh a bit more. The blonde sighed.

“You're incredible.”

“Well, I'm not sure it is the wisest word to describe me, but...” Thomas shrugged.

“No, but you are.” Newt murmured. “I've never felt so much in such a short time. Good or bad.”

“Oh...” The brunette pressed his lips together, pleased and feeling guilty at the same time. “I... I'm sorry for your leg, Newt. I... If it wasn't for me... You'd still be fine.”

“Tommy. Don't blame yourself: it's not like you ordered that rat to attack you. Plus you've been quite near the ugly death experience.” The blonde wrinkled his nose at the memory.

“... The guys told me you went for Alby.” Thomas whispered, not quite believing it.

“Yeah...” Newt huffed a little laugh. “Who'd have thought? But he was the only one that I could think of when Jeff and Clint told me that they couldn't do anything for you.”

“That's... That's more than I deserved. I mean...” The Greenie was searching his words.

“For saving my life from the Griever? You actually sacrificed yourself. If it wasn't for the Big One, you'd be dead.” His second-in-command rolled his eyes in exasperation as the other boy didn’t seem to get it.

“Yeah, but if it wasn't for me, you wouldn't have been there on the first place!” Thomas insisted.

“Are you actually looking for a crutch in your face, Tommy?” Newt smiled threateningly. “'Cuz I definitely can help then.”

The brunette wanted to reply but he thought otherwise when seeing the blonde's hands threateningly squeezing the match that would probably end up on his head of he tried. He sighed and nodded in defeat, wrinkling his nose: his friend could be quite stubborn when he wanted it. He looked up to the dark chocolate eyes and smiled shyly.

“So... Are the crutches useful?”

“They are.” Newt smiled back, his eyes dropping as he blushed lightly. “Thanks... I really appreciate the thought. And to be able to walk all around. It hurts but... I can walk. Maybe I won't need them all my life... But I'll have a limp.”

“Minho told me...” The brunette pressed his lips together and sighed. “Gally wanted to kill me first... But then, I don't know why, he just said that I had already paid for it.”

“Gally can be a pain in the arse sometimes but he definitely isn't a bastard: he wouldn't hit a man already down or injured.” The blonde murmured. “You almost died.”

Thomas nodded slowly, admitting that the builder was not the bad guy he thought he was at first. Plus the two boys had learnt to respect each other whilst working together, exchanging ideas and experience. Gally had liked the Greenie's fresh ideas and Thomas had seen all the knowledge the boy had as a builder. He understood now that Gally wasn't the builders' keeper for no reason. Then something else came back in the brunette's mind and he added with a smirk:

“Heard that my bed is coming back into your room.”

“Yeah...” Newt blushed slightly, looking away. “It was getting bored of the outside world. I took pity on it.”

“You threw it away.” It wasn't an accusation, just a statement.

“You deserved it.” The blonde countered.

“About that...” Thomas began.

“I wanted to say that I'm sorry.” The Glade second-in-command cut him, letting his friend wide-eyed.

“What...?”

“I’ve no right to judge your friends. I'm just not obliged to like them.” Newt shrugged. “I guess he is your friend for a good reason but... I mean, I understood that he is... Different. But I can't, Tommy. I...”

The boy shook his head, not finding the words to express what he felt, to tell the brunette that all his being screamed out of fear around the Big One even if his brain was slowly processing that the guy maybe wasn't bad. He felt as panicked as birds hearing a gun shot. Unable to control it. He jumped when feeling a warm touch on his arm: it was Thomas' hand. Thomas who was smiling at him.

“It's okay, Newt. You put all that aside to go to Alby and save my life. I can't ask you more than that and I won't.” He slightly squeezed the blonde's arm. “Will you still be my friend? Even if I'm Alby's friend too?”

Newt looked at him all the time he spoke and sighed at the question before slowly nodding: yes, he would remain his friend. The brunette gave him a bright smile hugged him tightly, murmuring a “thank you” in his ear, making the blonde shiver. A wince caught his attention and he pulled away, only to see Thomas making a face, one hand on his side.

“Watch out for your injury, you shank!” He growled. “I'm not gonna run to the Big One to fix you up again! Or it will be to ask for brain surgery then!”

“Like you could run now.”

It was a bad joke, definitely, but the two boys smiled and finally burst into laughter. It was silly and they felt good about it, slapping each other lightly and shaking their heads. They had been through a lot in the last few days, they could at least allowed themselves a few moments of carelessness.

“So d'you accept coming back into my room?” Newt asked.

“You didn't think I'd sleep in your bed, did you?” Thomas teased him, remembering the blonde's words when he had arrived.

It only earned him a hit on the head from a laughing Newt. They stayed a few more minutes, laughing, and then the blonde looked at him, fondly, and shook his head. It caught Thomas' curiosity:

“What?”

“Nothing.” His friend mumbled.

“There's never “nothing” with you.” The brunette smiled. “I know that much from the few days I know you.”

“I was actually thinking about that.” The Glade's second-in-command sighed, looking at the floor. “It's been less than a week... I think. I'm not even sure anymore. But... Feels like I’ve known you for much longer.”

“Yeah... I know what you mean...” Thomas nodded slowly. “I have the same feeling.”

“Hm...” Newt nodded and could almost feel the Greenie's eyes on him as he spoke lowly. “I'm beginning to blindly trust you... And it scares me.”

“Newt...” The brunette's eyes slightly widened.

“I keep giving you new ways to hurt me every single day...” The blonde saw Thomas ready to cut him and he looked at him in the eyes. “What's strange is that... I don't actually think you will.”

Thomas blinked, looking at his friend in bewilderment. He stayed a few seconds unable to speak, no words forming into his mind. But a smile finally pulled on his lips and he raised an eyebrow.

“Wanna talk about your leg?” His smile was joyless.

“I'm really gonna hit you with that thing, Tommy.” Newt groaned. “What I'm trying to say is-“

“I know what you're saying, slinthead.” Thomas smiled fondly. “I know 'cuz I think the same: no matter what, whatever you say or do, I will trust you.”

It was Newt’s turn to look at him with wide eyes, his heart skipping a beat. It was unreal. How could they trust each other so easily without even knowing each other properly? He giggled, feeling his cheeks warming up, and his friend followed him in the process. Thomas put a hand on his side, laughing proved quite painful sometimes, but he could manage; he looked back at the blonde.

“I still have a few things to see with Gally... But we are almost done and the builders want to work on it as soon as possible. So maybe we can go back in the Men Land tomorrow or the day after.”

“Oh, Tommy. I don’t know...” Newt sighed. “I... I’m broken. Not really a Borrower anymore... I don’t think it’s wise for me to go up there... I mean, if some Big One caught me, it would put everyone in danger and-“

“Shut up, Newt!” The brunette’s firm tone startled the fair-haired boy and the hand sliding in his neck and at the back of his head, fingers scratching his scalp, made him shiver. “You’re not broken. You never will be. You’ll rise again. And we will go there, together. I’ve worked on this so you could run again and you will. You’re a runner, Newt. And there’s so much still for you to teach me. So you can’t give up.”

The dark brown eyes watered but he did not cry. He had his pride. But how did that Greenie manage to always find The Words? He slowly nodded as his mind replayed the same words again and again: _You’ll rise again._ _You’re a runner. You can’t give up._

 

**To be continued…**


	10. Come with me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas won't let Newt down. Never. He takes him to the Men Land once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay, guys. Got a bit occupied... :-(  
> Working on the next one as fast as I can.
> 
> Betad by FifiB!
> 
> ***

Thomas slowly woke up to the muffled noise of the Glade. It was still the morning but he couldn't guess what time it was. He straightened up and stretched with a content noise before looking around. Newt was still sleeping in his matchbox-bed, curled up in a foetal position, his golden hair spread all around his head like a wild halo. A smiled pulled on the brunette's lips as he watched his friend and he got up, leaving the room to let the blonde sleep. The gesture made him grit his teeth at the pain in his side and he decided to stop at the med-jacks place before going for breakfast. Clint greeted him with a smile and a wave of the hand before making him sit on a cork: he knew exactly why Thomas was coming and got all he needed to take care of the injury. Thomas watched as the medic worked and sighed of relief when he had finished.

“It's all good.” Clint said with a reassuring smile. “Don't put force on it and it will heal quickly. Just know that the pain will remain a bit after your skin heals: it's a pretty deep wound.”

“Yeah, I know.” Thomas sighed. “But it's okay. I'll get rid of it after some time, at least...”

The med-jack nodded but his smile faded as he took in the sight of the serious expression on the brunette's face. He knew what he was thinking, he didn't need to ask: Thomas was obviously thinking about their second-in-command's injury, the limp he would have his entire life. Clint pressed his lips together before murmuring.

“Thomas, I... D'you know what would be great?”

“What?” The whiskey eyes looked up at him.

“If tonight, Newt and you go to the Men Land with the Upgo and see if the Big Ones are watching a movie.” The medic shrugged. “Newt always loved watching movies.”

“... Thanks for the idea, Clint.” Thomas slightly smiled but then frowned. “You called it Upgo?”

“Yeah. Gally told us that “elevator” was too much of a Big Ones' word.” He chuckled.

“Gally...” The brunette huffed a laugh and shook his head, pleased to no end. “I'm gonna do that. Thanks, Clint.”

“Anytime. I don't like seeing people moping around me.” The medic slyly smiled.

“I'm not moping.” Thomas murmured, surprised to hear that.

“Mate... You guys are the definition of moping.” Clint teased before tidying his tools.

The brunette opened his mouth but said nothing and just shrugged with a smile. He left after putting back his t-shirt above his bandage and headed to the kitchen where Frypan greeted him with a smile and a nod.

“Hey, Fry.” Thomas smiled too.

“Hi, there, Greenie.” The cook put two plates on his counter. “Guess you came to get your breakfasts?”

“Yeah. I’m gonna take it to Newt. Don’t want him to walk too much.” The brunette explained.

“You two are cute.” The dark-skinned Borrower giggled.

“You think?” Thomas raised an eyebrow. “I’d do the same for you, you know.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet of you, Greenie.” Frypan laughed slightly. “But I prefer you doing it for Newt, don’t take that the wrong way.”

The brunette looked at his friend puzzled, much to Frypan’s amusement. The cook shook his head and gave him two plates with a bit of bread and marmalade; but when Thomas was ready to go, he stopped him and went back to his kitchen. Thomas wondered what the other Borrower was up to when he suddenly saw him coming back with two generous slices of strawberry.

“Your Big One friend offered them to us. Guess Newt is gonna appreciate it.”

Thomas thanked him and managed to pile the slices on the plates and he went back to the room. He saw and heard smiles and chuckles but didn’t mind, not really getting that the others were not amused because of his struggle with the breakfasts, but for another reason. He opened the door with his foot, smiling as he saw Newt opening an eye, merely looking at him and closing it again.

“Come on, rise and shine, Newt.”

“You’re beginning to sound like Minho, Tommy.” The blonde grumbled. “I might wanna hit you to death because of that. Watch yourself.”

“Alright, alright.” Thomas giggled and approached. “I brought breakfast to make amends. Frypan got you some strawberry.”

As if it was a magical word, Newt sat up instantly, looking at his friend with suddenly focused eyes, his hair completely dishevelled, making Thomas burst out laughing. He shook his head and came to sit on the matchbox, giving his plate to his friend. Newt gave him a bright smile and bit into the fruit slice, letting out a moan; the brunette chuckled and shook his head.

“How come you love strawberry so much?”

“I don’t know. It’s the only fruit I’d sell my soul for.” The fair-haired boy shrugged. “Just love the colour, the smell, the sweet taste... Can’t be more specific.”

“You look like an addict. I wonder how this fruit grows. Maybe they inject some weird product in it, judging by your addiction.” Thomas smirked.

Newt rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless. He knew that it could seem ridiculous that he loved them so much, but it was almost like a treat for him. They ate in silence, both boys appreciating having something in their stomachs, before Thomas proposed

“I was thinking about going to the Men Land tonight.”

“Huh? What for?” Newt looked at him, startled.

“And I want you to come with me.” The brunette locked their eyes and shook his head when seeing the blonde ready to protest. “We can go. Remember the mechanism I've been working on with Gally? Well, it's time to test it.”

“The elevator?” The second-in-command raised his eyebrows.

“Yep. But it's called Upgo.” Thomas grinned.

“... Guess that the shuck name is your idea.” Newt smirked, but then his smile faded. “I don't know, Tommy. What if something goes wrong? I can't run, remember?”

“I'll be there.” His friend insisted. “And if you want, we can go to the Granny’s flat, so if Alby sees us, well, it will be no big deal.”

“Explain that to the Griever.” The blond snorted.

“I'll find a way. Just come with me, okay?” Thomas looked at him expectantly. “I promise it will be fine.”

Newt sighed, knowing that the boy wished he would agree, but deep inside he could feel his own heartbeat speeding just at the thought; his eyes went up to meet the brunette's. He expected so much. The blonde slowly nodded, worried that he could regret it afterwards, but the smile that brightened Thomas' face was enough to turn down those worries, making him feel that everything in the world was okay again. They finished their breakfast and went to the shower can before wandering in the Glade: they were out of most of the duties because of their injuries but the others could still ask them questions. Most of them were for the blonde anyway.

***

“You're sure you wanna go up there?” Minho asked, visibly pretty reluctant to let them go.

“Tommy wants it. And I know he's doing this for me.” Newt answered, looking around to see if Thomas was coming back, not wanting him to hear that.

“What if something goes wrong?” The Asian insisted.

“Minho... Listen, I know the risks, okay?” The blonde gave him a pleading look. “I'm going bonkers just sitting here. I...”

“Okay, I got it.” His leader groaned, briefly and fiercely scratching his scalp in annoyance. “I just don't want you to get hurt anymore.”

Newt smiled, for behind all the authoritative appearances Minho was still his best friend, the one that saved him so many years ago, the one who never let him down and the one he had shared almost everything with. He gently squeezed the Asian's arm with his hand, wanting to promise him that everything would be alright, but he knew Minho wouldn't like it: the boy never made a promise he couldn't keep.

“Let me at least take you both to the elevator.” He mumbled.

“The Upgo.” The second-in-command grinned.

“Shuck off.” Minho growled. “I'm gonna break you the other leg otherwise.”

Newt laughed and shook his head. That was when Thomas came back with a few things from the workshop, making both leader and second-in-command raise an eyebrow, but the brunette dismissed all their questions, in deep concentration. He leant on his friend’s leg and began to work on his idea, not at all bothered by feeling observed: he used pieces of drawing paper Chuck had given him, putting them on each side of Newt's low leg, and he attached them with dental thread.

“It will maintain and protect your leg a bit.” Thomas explained.

Minho looked the two of them as they watched at each other and smiled, Newt thanking his friend for the thought, and the Asian held back a roll of his eyes, even if he appreciated that the greenie took care of their second-in-command. He took the blonde on his back and walked after the brunette, not letting the two injured boys to go on their own on the way to the Men Land. Thomas didn't like to admit it but he was quite relieved that Minho came along with them: the rat incident was vivid in his mind and even with the needle secured in the fabric of his pants, he was pretty stressed.

The Upgo was waiting for them. It was a deep soap dish attached in four different points to a long rope that disappeared in the darkness of the ceiling. Newt was seeing it for the first time and was feeling a mix of excitement and anxiousness: was this thing even safe? But he said nothing, letting Minho put him in the soap dish and waiting for Thomas to climb in. The brunette did so and smiled to their leader, giving him the candle they used to light their path.

“Thanks, Minho.”

“Anytime.” The Asian waved it off. “But be sure to be back before noon if you sleep there.”

“We will.” The brunette smiled. “You can turn on the Upgo.”

Minho nodded and approached the remote control a few steps away: Gally had used the mechanism and engine of a remote controlled car to build the Upgo's one. They hadn't tried it yet and the Asian was not really fond with the idea of his second-in-command and the greenie being their testers, but he pressed the button nonetheless. The soap dish raced up along the wall in a wheezing sound, its' two passengers plastered to the ground, screaming as the thing was speeding. Their eyes were wide as they saw the holes leading to the different flats passing by them at a huge speed. Fortunately, Gally had also build a brake on the mechanism and the two boys let out a surprised yelp when the soap dish abruptly stopped itself, letting them jump a few inches more.

“Shuck...” Newt exhaled, shaking.

They burst into laughter, their heart racing madly in their chests as they got up and left the soap dish, a bit relieved to step on firm ground. Thomas noted to himself that he would have to talk with Gally about the Upgo brakes. He wanted to carry Newt on his back but the blonde refused.

“I took my crutches. Plus you're wounded too, slinthead! Take care of yourself for a change.”

Thomas rolled his eyes but didn't protest: Newt could be pretty stubborn. They went slowly, the blonde needing more time to walk with the crutches, not yet really used to them. They arrived on the top of a huge dresser, the height giving them slight dizziness: it was higher than a Big One with his adult size. The piece of furniture overlooked the living room, giving them quite a good sight of the television the family was watching, every Big One sitting on the couch. The younger one was programming the DVD.

“Just in time.” Thomas whispered with a smile.

Newt smiled back and nodded. They found themselves a spot just behind a decoration of the dresser so they didn’t risk being seen but they could see the television perfectly. The movie began and the little Big One turned off the light, letting the big room be lit only by the screen. The beginning of Avengers was playing as the brunette looked into the backpack he had brought with him and handed something to his friend, making him raise his eyebrows: it was the size of one of their fists, wrapped in a blade of grass. Newt took it, looking curiously at the greenie, and unwrapped it delicately. It was two pieces of chocolate. The dark brown eyes looked back up at him, Thomas only shrugging one shoulder with a sly grin on his face.

“Frypan allowed me to take some.” He explained in a murmur. “I figured it could be nice during the film.”

A smiled pulled on the blonde’s lips and he huffed a small laugh. He looked down at the chocolate and took one of them to hand it to the brunette:

“You’re too much of a sweetie.” He whispered.

“I try.” Thomas smiled, taking the bit.

The blonde felt his stomach squeezing slightly at the words before turning back to the screen, feeling quite relieved that the darkness of the room was enough to hide his warming cheeks. The sweet taste flooded in his mouth as he took a bite of it, trying to concentrate on the movie, but it was difficult for his brain to manage such an effort, making him sigh slightly before turning again to his friend.

“Tommy...?”

“Hm?” The brunette hummed, his eyes still on the television.

“I... Wanted to thank you.” Newt murmured. “For... Making all this... For me... Not letting me down...”

“Well... You’ve always been looking after me since I got here.” Thomas shrugged and turned his gaze to him, smiling. “So let me look after you for a while.”

Newt stared at him for a moment before a sly smile pulled on the corner on his lips, a warm feeling blossoming in his chest. He nodded once and turned to look back at the movie: thankfully, he didn’t need to watch every second to understand it all. He felt more than he saw Thomas leaning his head against his shoulder, the warm touch making him feel dizzy and putting a new smile on his face. He ate slowly, allowing the dark food to melt in his hand as he bit into the piece of chocolate; it was all over his palm by the time he finished his own bit of chocolate and he smiled, looking at Thomas.

“Want some?”

“Oh my...” The brunette huffed a laugh. “You eat like a cockroach.”

“Hey, there’s no clean way to eat a piece of chocolate.” Newt wrinkled his nose, imagining  the big insect eating voraciously.

“Well, I didn’t get chocolate all over my hand.” Thomas smirked, showing a perfectly clean hand.

“But you had the blade of grass to hold it, cheater.” The blonde growled, wrinkling his nose.

“All right, all right.”

And with those words, Thomas grabbed Newt’s wrist and pulled his friend’s hand to his mouth, his tongue delicately licking the sweet flavoured food on his fingers. The blonde’s eyes widened as he looked at the brunette in action, his mind totally blank and his stomach melting, or maybe it was his entire body. He didn’t know anymore, looking at the brunette totally dumbfounded, his lips slightly parted. Every single caress of Thomas’ warm tongue on his fingers provoked a violent shiver through his entire body. He might even have forgotten how to breathe for a few seconds. And then, Thomas looked up, still licking the chocolate out of Newt’s hand.

His whiskey eyes were penetrating, as if looking right into his soul. Never the blonde had felt so exposed. He swallowed with difficulty, feeling his heartbeat up to his temples, thundering under his skin. Eventually, Thomas pulled back a little, smiling fondly at him without letting go his hand.

“There... You’re clean now.”

“Tommy...” Newt almost didn’t recognise his own voice as he whispered. A small smile pulled on the side of his lips. “You’ve got chocolate everywhere on your face now...”

And it was true, but the blonde only aimed for the brunette’s lips, leaning in slowly, not even sure of what he was doing, his eyes dropping to those offered lips before closing. The touch was soft and warm, electrifying and tender all at the same time. Instinctively, his hands slid into the dark hair, his short nails scratching Thomas’ scalp as he felt the strong arms engulfing him slowly in a tight embrace. It was a tender chocolate flavoured kiss that left them short winded, foreheads pressed against one another and their eyes chasing each other’s. An identical shy smile appeared on both their faces, Newt slightly chewing his bottom lip before leaning in once more to seek another kiss.

It was all gentle, nothing to do with their feverish sex from the other night. It was a very fragile moment as if they both were afraid it might shatter with any rough movement. Thomas left Newt’s lips in order to kiss the corner of his mouth, his cheekbone, letting the blonde kiss his neck, or just under his ear, before they both came back to each other’s lips. Time had stopped in their bubble of warm tenderness, their fingers gently touching the other with an almost reverent softness. No urge, nor lethal danger nearby, just them.

“Newt...” Thomas called him in a whisper.

“Yes?” The blonde slowly opened his eyes, the dark brown irises looking up to him.

“I -”

But a sudden light startled them, breaking the soft bubble to take them back to reality in an instant: the movie was over and the family was getting up. The brunette cursed and helped his friend to get on his feet. They were pretty safe on top of that dresser but they didn’t want to push their luck and headed back to the tunnel, Newt threatening his friend again with his crutches so he would let him walk on his own. But the Glade’s second –in-command eventually accepted that the brunette lit up a candle so they could see in the darkness and prepare themselves for the descent. They couldn’t use the Upgo since the control was out of reach several levels downstairs, so they would have to use the builders’ system just like Thomas did on the day he got attacked by the rat. The memory stilled vivid in his mind and he murmured:

“I’m gonna go first with the candle, okay? Then I’ll wait for you downstairs.”

“I can go first, if you want.” Newt offered, like he was reading the brunette’s thoughts.

“And fight any possible rat with your one good leg? Forget it.” Thomas declined. “I’ll go first. I have my needle in case of rat emergency.”

The blonde wanted to protest but his interlocutor silenced him with a kiss. Out of their little bubble, Newt felt suddenly very conscious about the touch and felt his face burning as he blushed; but to his satisfaction, it wouldn’t be the candle light that turned Thomas’ face red. They huffed a laugh and Thomas finally took the thread to attach it around his waist. Newt looked at him with concern as the brunette prepared to launch himself into the emptiness.

“Are you sure about that?”

“Don't worry. I've done it already.” Thomas smiled. “Plus, I can't take you on my back all the way down the stairs and you can’t exactly go by yourself. So it's the only way.”

“Okay.” Newt sighted. “Watch out for the rats.”

“I'll be fine.” The brunette assured him.

The blonde nodded and couldn't help but feel his heart skipping a beat as his friend jumped backward and disappeared, only the candle light visible as a fleeing firefly. The descent was much longer than the first time Thomas used the mechanism since they had gone above Alby's flat, but the adrenaline was the same and he let out a yelp of surprise and agony when his fall abruptly stopped, the shock and the thread provoking a shot of awful pain in his side. The candle was pretty useful to undo the knot that secured him and he let the thread go back up thanks to an elastic mechanism. He just had to wait for the blonde now, his heart racing but not because of the adrenaline that rushed through his veins during the descent but because he was all ears and eyes, watching around him and staring as far as the light of the candle could go, one hand on the needle on the side of his waist. His heartbeat was ringing in his ears and he wondered if it wasn't audible a few dozen centimetres around.

Suddenly a loud scream made him jerk his head up, looking for the blonde. Newt eventually appeared and his descent abruptly stopped a few centimetres above the ground with a loud yelp, just like Thomas did not even a minute ago. The brunette smiled and approached the gesticulating blonde, already working on the knot to free his panting friend.

“Exciting, huh?” He smiled.

“Oh, shuck...” Newt cursed as the adrenaline slowly backed down. “I thought I was gonna die...”

“Well, nothing unusual then. Right?” Thomas grinned widely.

“Shut up, shank!” But his friend's lips smirked up. “That was awesome.”

They laughed together and as he freed him, Thomas took him on his back without warning, causing the blonde to growl and to insult him. With a smile, he kept going in the direction of the Glade, a sensation of dizziness overwhelming him when feeling Newt's arms hold him tight and trying not to embarrass him with his crutches.

They didn't speak on their way back, not feeling the need of it, just enjoying the warm closeness of each other. But eventually, Newt frowned when seeing no one at the Glade ' s entrance: they tried to always have someone there, especially after the rat incident.

“There's something wrong.” He murmured in Thomas' ear.

The brunette frowned too and quickened his pace, hurrying as much as he could with his friend on his back and carrying him low on his waist as he tried not to press the blonde’s leg against his side. They looked around as they entered the Glade, wondering where everybody was.

“The campfire has been lit. Let’s go there.” Newt said.

“Okay.”

“Put me down.”

“No.”

The second-in-command groaned but didn’t insist since the brunette was already walking towards the enlightened place. They could hear noise as they approached: people talking in a constant murmur. The fire cast long shadows behind them and gave them a secretive appearance. Eventually, Thomas put his friend down as they approached the other Gladers so he could put a hand on the nearest shoulder he found.

“Hey Chuck, what’s going on?”

“It’s...” The boy cut stopped himself and looked at the two boys, excitement breaking all over his face. “Minho!! They are here! They are back!”

Newt and Thomas looked at the small boy with wide eyes and raised eyebrows, startled as everyone turned around to watch them and loud greetings erupted all around them. Their leader appeared in less than a second, jogging to them and stopping in front of Thomas.

“There you are. Couldn’t have done better even if you wanted. Come on. They are here.”

“They? Who?” The brunette asked, frowning first, but then a sudden realisation hit him, widening his eyes.

“Them, Thomas.” Minho replied patiently. “Your parents are here.”

 

**_To be continued..._ **


	11. Don't like goodbyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas misses his friends. But eventually Chuck gets back to him. Only with bad news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Already betad by the wonderful FifiB!! <3
> 
> ****

“Thomas!” A slightly scratchy female voice cried.

“Mom? Dad?” The brunette’s brain had totally stopped.

And he saw them. His mother was there, her long brown hair flitting around her face as she broke into a run to grab him in her arms, her dark eyes watering ; his father stood just behind her, less expansive than his wife. Newt looked at them in astonishment: even if he remembered the tall man with Hispanic features, he wouldn’t have imagined that both parents could be so different from their child. They both had dark hair and eyes whereas Thomas had hazel eyes that were almost honey coloured. He looked as the three of them embraced each other, tears running down their cheeks as they laughed, the relief of being together again overwhelming the air. The blonde did not really know why but the scene did not make him as happy as he thought he would be, nor did it make him proud to give back his son to the man who saved him so many years before. No, he didn’t feel pleased.

Jorge looked up and saw him, giving him and Minho by his side a grateful smile. Eventually, he came closer, making the entire Gladers step back so he could easily reach the two boys. The man looked now around forty years old but his eyes were still alert and his physique proved he was quite athletic. His voice sounded so familiar to the blonde:

“Guess you are Newt... Minho told me your name on the way. God, you grew up. I only remembered you as a child. I was also very surprised when I saw Minho. You two boys are men now!”

“Hi, Mr. Edison.” Newt smile politely.

“Oh, please, call me Jorge.” Thomas' father said patting the blonde's shoulder. “I can't believe you and Minho became young adults already. It doesn't seem so long ago for me.”

“Stop talking like an old man, Jorge. You're going to bore them.” The brunette's mother sighed, shaking her head.

“You're right, my love.” Jorge laughed. “Oh, let me introduce you; my wife and Thomas' mother: Brenda.”

“Very nice to meet you both.” Brenda smiled. “Jorge told me a lot about you two.”

The conversation was going on between them, surrounded by the Gladers but Thomas didn't say much. He looked at his parents with an unreal feeling, like his brain was wondering if he wasn't dreaming. It was like the crumbling house was ages ago instead of days or a week or so. He wasn't even quite sure. And his heart felt so light now that he saw them alive, not having to wonder if they were dead or not, injured or safe. But somehow, he felt a bit weird too: like his parents and the Glade were two different universes that shouldn't meet. A very strange feeling.

His mother must have seen him daydreaming because she came closer and squeezed his shoulders with her hands. A fond smile parted her lips as she looked at him with eyes full of emotion.

“I'm so happy to see you again. All those days I kept telling myself that you had made it, that you were safe... But it is so much better to see it with my own eyes.”

“Me too, mom.” Thomas grinned. “I'm definitely feeling better seeing you safe and sound.”

“Yes, sweetheart.” Brenda smiled at her son. “Your father and I thought about having a house in Maze.”

“What?” The brunette's eyes widened.

“Yes! Isn't it great? It’s much safer to live there. Plus, you will have other Borrowers to be with.” She offered him a beamy smile. “You won't be on your own anymore.”

“You... You want US to have a house in Maze?” Thomas murmured, baffled.

“Well, yes, us.” His mother laughed slightly. “What were you thinking? It will be much better than it was before. I promise, Tom.”

The boy was taken aback: was he going to leave the Glade? Part of him was dying to have his parents around again, but the other... He looked up and his eyes found Newt's. The blonde was still with Jorge and Minho, the two of them talking, but not him. He was staring at him. Newt knew. Thomas felt his heart sinking as his brain manage to interpret the choice he had: his parents or Newt and the Glade. Of course, it wasn't that exactly but it was how it felt to him. The joy of seeing his parents again suddenly stained with sadness.

He swallowed, not feeling ready to make such a choice. Jorge came back to him, all smiles and embraced him and his mother in a familial hug definitely happy to have them together again. Chuck looked at them with envy and also another feeling that was very misplaced: it was almost as if someone was taking one of them away. And looking around, the chubby boy knew he wasn't the only one thinking like this. Newt approached with the help of his crutches, straight and proud, and it was the second-in-command that Thomas heard.

“We are glad that you guys could reunite again and we wish you good luck with your installation.” He offered a smile that Thomas didn't want to see for once. “Take good care of him. He's quite a lot of trouble when he wants to be.”

“He's my boy!” Jorge laughed happily.

“Newt...” The brunette whispered.

“You're welcome anytime.” The blonde added. “Be safe, Thomas.”

Was it the lack of nickname? He wasn't quite sure but Thomas felt his heart sinking again: without saying it properly, Newt had just put distance between them. His eyes must have betrayed him because the blonde smiled again.

“Maze is not that far. Pay us a visit sometimes.”

“I will.” The brunette murmured, not trusting his voice enough to speak louder.

“There will always be a plate for you.” Frypan suddenly said.

“And clothes!” Chuck added quickly.

“And a backpack.” Ben cheered too.

“Gonna miss your shucked up ideas.” Gally smirked.

The Gladers were speaking all together now at the same time: they had got used to the greenie and it was like saying goodbye to a brother, to one of them. Chuck even had a tear on his cheek. Minho was the last one to come to the brunette and his face was closed as he frowned, visibly struggling in finding his words.

“It’s been kind of short but... Come back whenever you want, ‘kay? You changed quite a lot of things here...”

“Minho...” Thomas whispered.

“I’m not good with those things so just... Take care of yourself, shuckface.” The Asian smirked.

“I’m still the shuckiest shuckfaced shuck in the world, I know.” The greenie snorted.

They huffed a laugh and gave each other a manly embrace, slapping their backs. Thomas pulled back, smiling at the boy he could call his friend, just like all the Gladers. He fought back the tears and looked around, trying to find the blonde. But Newt was nowhere to be seen, making Thomas heart to scream.

“Tom?” His father called. “We should go now, ‘cuz it’s gonna be pretty late by the time we’ll arrive in Maze.”

Brenda looked at her son, watching him as he was searching the crowd around them, her fingers reaching her mouth as her thoughts made their way in her head. After a moment, Thomas nodded slowly and turned around to walk out with his parents: he didn’t have any belongings anyway. Minho sighed deeply and made a gesture for all the Gladers to get back to their occupations, himself heading to his second-in-command’s room. He didn’t even bother to knock on the credit-card door and went in. The blonde was sitting on his match-box bed, his injured leg dangling, the other one pulled again his chest, his chin resting on his knee.

“You disappeared.”

“I don’t like goodbyes.” Newt groaned.

“He was looking for you.” The Asian informed him.

His friend didn’t answer. Minho didn’t push it, knowing the boy well enough to see behind his silence. He simply came and sat by his side, putting a hand on his shoulder blade.

********

********

Maze was a strange place to be after living so many years with only his parents and even after living in the Glade. The city was quite big for him, there were more people than he had ever seen, and he could lose himself in the streets and alleys many times before finding his way. His parents had found a small flat made out of a handkerchief box, with two rooms: one for his parents and one for him, even if his was more like the living room and the kitchen all at once. He didn't mind though since he was outside most of the time, coming back to the flat only to eat and sleep. He kept walking through the streets, visiting and watching the other Borrowers living but nothing could really captivate him or even just catch his attention. They lived essentially with the things other Borrowers brought in Maze to exchange but they didn't go outside themselves, which was for the best in his parents’ opinion. Not that they were afraid of the Men Land (which he had discovered to be a Glade's term, they called it just "The Outside" in Maze), they just thought it was safer for their boy. But Thomas was missing it.

He missed the errands, the items collection, the Big Ones' world with their huge devices and wires and installations, the adrenaline... He missed the Glade and its inhabitants. He missed feeling useful by being a runner, he missed Frypan cooking, he missed Gally's tools, and he also missed Zart's garden, Jeff's advices, Chuck babbling, Minho's smirks, the fresh air, the campfires... But most of all, he missed Newt. He could see his dark brown eyes at night and every blond hair caught his attention in the streets. 

It had been two weeks since he had left the Glade and hadn't come back. He had been counting days. Some sort of nurse in Maze had asked him not to run around to let his side heal well, so he hadn't gone back. But none of the Gladers had come to Maze either, not even Minho on the Market days, which were thrice a week. The brunette had been there every single time, looking for a familiar face but without success. Had they already forgotten him? Was it because he wasn't part of their group anymore? He felt lonely and sad, even if he liked having his parents around. One day, eventually, his mother found him sitting on a shoe box near the Market street, his eyes searching in the crowd without expecting to find anything.

“Tom?” She whispered, climbing a toy ladder to reach her boy and sat at his side. “How are you feeling?”

“Better...” He mumbled. “It's almost totally healed. Doesn't hurt anymore. Still feel it but it doesn't hurt.”

“I was not talking about your injury.” Brenda said, searching for her sons' eyes.

Thomas pressed his lips in a thin line without looking away from the crowd: they could appear there, somewhere. He heard a sigh and felt a hand on his shoulder as his mother squeezed it slightly. She has always been the caring kind and as always she sounded pretty concerned:

“Tom... Talk to me. What are you looking for on every market day?”

“One of them.” He answered calmly.

"The boys from the Glade?" She asked.

He simply nodded. It has been two weeks. His injury was almost healed. A sigh escaped from his nose and he finally looked at his mother. Brenda looked so worried because of him. They were finally together and he was pining over boys he had known for a week or so, he felt so selfish.

“Mom... I'm sorry...”

“For what, sweetheart?” She smiled gently at him, encouraging him to talk.

“I miss them.” He whispered, looking again to the market, but with watering eyes. “So much... I miss every second I had there. And I know it’s shucking selfish since they haven't even come to see me either and that I just got you back but... I want to see them so badly...”

“Tom...” She called lowly. “You will go back there when you are healed. That’s what the nurse said.”

“I know.” Thomas replied, a bit too sharply, regretting it in the second. “Sorry, mom, I...”

“Don’t.” The woman cut her son, not wanting him to apologize. “You know... When your father and I were out of the house... I prayed. Can you believe it? Me? Of all people? But I did nonetheless. Because I never wanted anything so badly. To know that my child was safe, that people were taking care of him. Even if I was never to see him again.”

“What are you trying to tell me, mom?” The brunette asked, frowning.

“That you know where they are and that they are alive and fine.” His mother smiled gently. “You will see them again. You just have to be a bit more patient, sweetheart.”

Thomas only nodded. He didn’t want to say to his mother that her words didn’t help. Not that he didn’t trust her, because he did: his friends were at the Glade which was not very far away, and they had been pretty fine without him before. But he had changed, he was no longer just the kid his parents knew before: the Gladers had made a runner of him. And he missed that too.

Brenda bit her lower lip, not at all liking seeing her son so sad, but before she could even think of something to say, some noise caught her attention. In the market street were roaring sounds of confusion, people looking at one another, but in the middle of it, a clear voice rose. Someone was screaming at the top of his lungs, pushing through the crowd. Thomas raised his head too, frowning: he knew that voice, but most of all, he heard his name.

“THOMAS!! THOMAS!!” A little boy managed to pass through the crowd.

“CHUCK!” The brunette got up on his shoe box and waved his arms. “I'm here!!”

He would have been very happy to see the chubby boy if it wasn't for the fear in his voice and the terror on his face when he extracted himself out of the crowd. As soon as Chuck spotted him, Thomas jumped from the box, along with his mother, and ran to the young Glader who embraced him fiercely.

“Thomas!”

“Chuck! Hey, buddy, what happened? What's going on?” The brunette asked, concerned, trying to cup his friend's face to make him look at him. “Chuck!”

“They are gone!” The boy burst into tears, completely oblivious of all the Borrowers looking at them with startled faces.

“What? Who's gone?” Thomas frowned, feeling his heartbeat racing faster and faster. “Chuck, calm down and tell me!”

“Them! Everyone! Everything!” Chuck was hysterical. “There's no Glade anymore!”

It was like someone had punched him in the stomach. Flabbergasted, Thomas was out of air. The Glade? Gone? His eyes were wide open, not able to focus on anything as the words echoed in his mind again and again. He embraced his friend tightly, needing support as well, suddenly short-winded. He roughly bit his bottom lip to snap out of his shock and force himself into taking Chuck by his shoulders to look into his eyes.

“Chuck. You must tell me what happened.”

Brenda looked at her son with wide eyes, surprised to see the boy able to force his temper. It also snapped Chuck out of his despair, focusing on his friend: Thomas was afraid too, but he was fighting it. Breathing deeply, the chubby boy began to speak again, much more calmly.

“A Big One. He came in the wee hours. He caught all those sleeping in the hammocks and tossed them into a bag. Jeff tried to run with Clint and Frypan but he caught them too. Minho and Gally tried to attack but it didn't help. He didn't see me because I was in the storage area, behind the dice.”

Thomas could picture the poor boy hiding behind the CD-box, helplessly watching his friends being kidnapped one after the other. He closed his eyes for a second, inhaling deeply, before looking back to Chuck.

“Anything more?”

“Hey, what's going on?” Jorge asked, coming back to his son and wife.

“I...”Chuck looked startled, as if he hadn't noticed he was not alone with the brunette.

“Anything else, Chuck?” Thomas insisted firmly, squeezing his friend's shoulders more tightly.

“Newt.” The smallest one said suddenly, oblivious to Thomas' heartbeat stopping at that. “He knew Newt! He said something about thinking he had disappeared or was dead... He said something about Newt’s parents!”

“Wait, what are you talking about?” Jorge spoke again.

“A Big One attacked the Gladers, dad.” Thomas replied more bitterly than he wanted to. “The same Big One who kept Newt prisoner as a child. And now he has them all.”

The thought that the human could give one of his friends as a present to his cat gave the brunette the urge to vomit but he had more important things to do now. He didn't know how yet but he had to do something.

“I know where it is.” Jorge said abruptly.

“You think it is the one you told me about all those years ago?” Brenda asked, remembering her husband telling her about the two boys.

“Wait what?” Thomas couldn't believe in what he was hearing. “You know this Big One, dad?”

“Not personally. But I was with Minho when we rescued him.” His father explained. “This Big One was our neighbour in our last home.”

It was a lot of information for the brunette: his father had saved Newt? He remembered the blonde telling him that the Asian had come with an adult. What were the chances of the adult being his own dad? It was crazy. Totally crazy. But it was not the time to think about how small the world was.

“Do you think he’s still living in the same house?”

“I don't know, son... We can go and see.” Jorge shrugged, scratching his scalp.

“No! We don't have time for that!” Thomas barked, but then he realised that no one knew what had happened to Newt's parents, only him. “This Big One is evil!”

“And what do you want us to do, Tom?” His father sighed. “It’s pretty far away but it’s the only way.”

“It’s not.” The boy growled. “Alby might know that Big One. He could help us.”

“Who is Alby?” Jorge raised an eyebrow.

“My Big One friend.” Thomas answered without any hesitation, just hearing his mother’s gasp and seeing his father frowning.

“He can help??” Chuck’s eyes widened in what was, for the first time since the beginning of the conversation, a genuine expression of hope.

“I said maybe. Now are there things left in the Glade? Enough to make a backpack?” The brunette asked.

“Yes!” A smile parted the chubby boy’s face. “I can make you one.”

“Good. We’re going.” Thomas nodded.

“One second, young lad!” Jorge grabbed his son’s shoulder with an evident lack of tenderness. “You’re not going anywhere! You are still recovering, remember? And there is no way you’re going near this Alby!”

“Dad! My friends may die and you want me to stay here and do nothing?!” He could feel his blood boiling in his veins.

“You cannot trust a Big One!” His father’s voice rose.

“He saved my life!” Thomas opposed. 

“And maybe it was to find your friends later! Big Ones are not Borrowers’ friends!” Jorge yelled.

Brenda called her husband, grabbing his arm with a dark look, but the man didn’t listen. Thomas couldn’t have that: Alby had done his best to save him, he knew him, they were friends! Newt’s words resurfaced in his mind like a fierce and angry wave and he spat just as loud as his dad.

“And who are you to know better than me who my friends are?! How do you know?!” He could see the face of his father changing, struggling between anger and surprise: he had never yelled at his dad.

Chuck was now nervous, his eyes going from Thomas to his dad and back again, not liking seeing them arguing that badly. But the brunette didn’t stop there, pushing his friend forward to make him understand it was time to leave and that he was coming along. Jorge groaned and caught his son’s wrist only to let it go when Thomas made a vivid move to get free.

“Thomas!”

“I’m a Glader!” The brunette growled in a decided voice, looking his father right in the eyes. “And I’m gonna do all I can to save them! Even if I have to ask Alby’s help once more! Because I know he will help me the best he can!”

“I’ll come with you.” His mother said suddenly, shocking them all.

“What?” Father and son both whispered.

“Of course I will.” She rolled her eyes. “Now let’s go. We must be fast.”

“Mom...” A smile began to pulled on the boy’s lips.

“Brenda...” Jorge murmured.

“Don’t try to stop me, honey.” She smiled. “If a Big One wants to hurt my baby, it will be over my dead body.” 

Thomas didn’t know if those words should please him or scare him but he smiled nonetheless, so proud that this woman was his mother and choosing to be totally oblivious to that horrible pet name. Chuck was looking at her with admiration, almost stars shining in his irises, and when he looked at Thomas, the brunette could almost read in his eyes: “your mum is so badass!!”. Jorge sighed deeply, visibly pretty fed up with his family’s issues, and looked back to his son.

“Well... We’re going with you then.”

“Dad...”

“Just show us the way.”

 

**To be continued...**


	12. You must be shucking kidding me...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rescue mission is on its way!!! Or kind of...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go! Wanted to publish two chapters in a raw to catch up with my late update from chapter 10. Hope you guys will like it! 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> EDIT: Betad by FifiB! ^^   
> My computer is dead so I have to update with my mobile, I hope it will appear nice.
> 
> ****

The Glade was a sorry sight: it was like desolated land after a gigantic storm, everything was upside down, shredded and broken. Thomas had never seen anything like it in his short life, his heart beating in his temples, mouth agape. The Glade was no more than ruins. The second-in-command’s garland was no more than flickering, ghostly lights in the decorum. The brunette swallowed, not able to think, imagining the faces of his friends distorted by terror. It was Chuck's touch on his arm that snapped him out of his nightmarish daydream: the boy was afraid, his eyes skimming over the rubble and finding the window through which a giant hand had caught all his friends one by one. Thomas took his hand with a weak smile.

"Chuck... They are fine. We're gonna find them."

The boy looked up at him and then at the Glade again, nodding slowly. He inhaled deeply and turned fierce eyes to the brunette.

"I'm gonna prepare you a backpack!"

And he ran to their storage area, or what was left of it. Thomas scanned the scene once again before turning to his parents. They were watching him: Brenda with concern and Jorge with a mix of resignation and determination. He sighed and murmured:

"I have to do this. But you don't have to come with me."

"And watching you running into the wild without knowing if we'll see you again once more?" His father groaned. "Forget it."

"We are coming with you, honey. Even if I'm not very pleased with the part where your Alby helps us...” His mother smiled gently, shrugging at the last part of his sentence.

“... Thanks...” Thomas whispered. “Thanks.”

He looked away from his parents and walked deeper into the Glade. For one week or so, it had been his home. And it was his friends’. He could barely picture them here now that he saw the remains of the encampment. The hammocks were no more than shreds dangling from pieces of broken wooden sticks, nothing was left of the kitchen except for the watch and the utensils scattered across the floor, and the workshop was a blasted mess of everything. Thomas swallowed, holding back tears. How could this disastrous scene and the Glade he had known be the same place? He couldn’t picture it. He shook his head and picked up from the ground what seemed to be Gally’s tool pouch. It was not really heavy but there were a few tools in it. Seeing sort of loops on it, he looked around and picked some sort of a lace and attached it to his waist: it could be useful.

A cry caught his attention, his head jerking up at the sound: Chuck was coming back with the backpack. No, four bags in fact. Thomas joined him and his parents in a jog, taking one bag and smiling as the boy looked at him expectantly, he sighed and shook his head.

“Can’t tell you not to come with us, can I?”

“No, you can’t. She’s coming!” Chuck replied hastily, pointing at Brenda.

“Hey, young man, don’t point at me if you want to keep all your fingers.” She growled.

“And she’s an adult.” Thomas objected, even if the idea of bringing her with him was not the most appealing.

“But she’s still a MOTHER!” The chubby boy argued as if it was the best thing he could say.

“Are we really having this discussion?” Brenda rolled her eyes.

“Chuck...” Thomas sighed, trying to find a way to ask the boy to stay behind.

“They are my friends too!” Chuck exclaimed suddenly, his eyes shining with held on tears. “And for much longer than they’ve been yours!”

The brunette stayed silent, looking at the boy with a hurt expression, and inhaled deeply before slowly nodding. Chuck bit his bottom lip and took his friend’s hand, asking silently for forgiveness for such awful words. Thomas smiled to reassure him but it didn’t reach his eyes, so the chubby boy pulled him behind him, dragging him to the other side of the Glade.

“Chuck? Where are you taking me?”

“Just come, shank!” The boy replied, pulling harder.

They arrived at the very far corner of the wall, the farthest end of the Glade, the place was almost dark as it was so far away from the window but as Chuck let go of his hand and switched on a lamp, Thomas saw it. The nude bulb threw an intense light on the wall on which appeared a multitude of names, carved in the stone: Minho, Jeff, Gally, Zart, Clint, Adam, Ben, Billy, Dave, Siggy, Chuck, Frankie, Newt... And a lot more. Many of them had been clumsily crossed out.

“Are those...?”

“Yeah... All the Gladers’ names.” Chuck murmured. “It’s kind of a... Memory wall, I guess? We carved our names on our first days here.”

Thomas approached and gently brushed his fingers on the hacked about stone. It was all his friends’ names... And even those he didn’t know. Zart had told him that if he didn’t listen to others and kept stubborn, he would be no more than a corpse one day... But today he just couldn’t listen to anyone. If he did, it would mean abandoning them. And he couldn’t. Chuck’s hand found his and lead it on another name: Thomas. His eyes widened.

“My name...?”

“Yeah... It was carved the day you left. Well... The night, better say.” The chubby boy shrugged before looking to is friend. “As you said to your dad: you’re a Glader. You’re one of us.”

“I...” Thomas felt his eyes burning. “You guys never came to Maze... I thought...”

“We’ve been pretty down since you went.” Chuck smiled clumsily when the brunette looked at him with a stunned expression. “No one left the Glade because his parents came to get him before. We were getting used to you... I wanted to come, I swear but... I couldn’t. It’s not like I have parents somewhere... So I couldn’t tell you I missed you. It wouldn’t have been fair, right? Pretty selfish in fact...”

Thomas was dumbfounded. He didn’t try to hold back the tears that ran down his cheeks and he pulled the boy into a bone crashing hug, whispering in the younger one’s ear.

“I’m sorry... I should have come before... I was... No, I should have come.” He sniffed. “Let’s go. We must save them, okay?”

Chuck nodded furiously and they ran back to Thomas’ parents to take their backpacks.

***

“ALBY! ALBY!!” Thomas cried from the top of his lungs. “Fuck...!”

“Doesn’t he hear anything?” Brenda frowned, looking at the Big One sat at his desk.

“Not with this shucking iPod on.” Thomas growled, sighing deeply at the sight of the earphones.

“What’s an iPod?” Jorge asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing important. Just annoying right now.” Chuck groaned.

“ALBY!” Thomas tried again, making like a loud-hailer with his hands.

“We’re wasting our time.” His mother sighed.

Thomas shook his head and walked to the Big One, he needed to get his attention! They had passed the cat by running and sneaking in under the room’s door, nearly dying of a heart attack, and it definitely was not to give up now. He had to ask Alby for help! They didn’t have time.

“Someone is coming!” Jorge suddenly warned, hurrying to get them all hidden.

They ran under the bed, just in time before the door opened. Brenda gestured for them to stay silent which made Thomas roll his eyes: who did she think they were? But they stayed quiet as footsteps created vibrations in their bones. How would they talk to Alby with another Big One nearby? And what if this Big One took Alby away? They needed him! The lives of their friends depended of him!

“Alby?” It was a female voice. “Oh, god, still with your music?”

“Oh, my...!” Chuck’s face broke into a wide smile, leaving his three companions dumbfounded as he ran out of the cover of the bed. “TERESA!”

Thomas and his parents stayed baffled, mouths open. Chuck knew this Big One? How come? But they heard the boy’s name as the giant girl put a knee on the floor. She was a beautiful girl with dark hair, fine features and incredible blue eyes; she seemed pretty disturbed to see the little one.

“Chuck... What are you doing here? Did you come alone? With the cat here? Oh my god, are you crazy?” She immediately closed the door behind her.

“I had to, Teresa. Besides, I didn’t come alone.” He looked to his companions and gestured for them to come.

Brenda and Jorge didn’t move, long years of hiding and suspicion holding them back. But Thomas did step out, approaching them. He frowned as he saw recognition in the Big One’s eyes, as if she knew him. But did she? How? Chuck must have seen his trouble because he smiled and explained.

“Teresa is the one who saved you when you were bitten by the rat. She came with Alby a few days after you left to take news and eventually she took a look at Newt’s leg.”

“I couldn’t do much about it, but he can walk without crutches now.” Teresa said before dismissing it with a wave of her hand. “Oh, but you already know that since you’re with Chuck, I’m sorry.”

“Actually... No.” Thomas replied, making her look at him with concern. “They have been kidnapped by a Big One.”

“Wha... Wait!”

Teresa suddenly got up and went straight to her friend, snatching the earphones out of the way, nearly beheading him. The boy winced and pressed his hands over his hurt ears, glaring at the girl, totally oblivious to what was happening:

“The fuck is wrong with you, T.?!”

“Just leave your iPod and your computer! The wee ones are here! They need us!” Teresa exclaimed.

“What...?” The dark-skinned boy looked stunned before finally noticing the Borrowers on the floor. “Thomas! Chuck!”

“You have to help us!” Thomas hurried, not bothering with greetings or anything. “A Big One took our friends!”

“Oh, fuck.” Alby bit his bottom lip. “You want me to find him or her?”

“Him.” Chuck corrected.

“And we have good reason to think it is your neighbour!” Thomas added. “I mean. When you were in your old house. Before the accident.”

“He is kind of thin for you guys, and around your age. He has a mole on his cheek and he definitely looks like a rat with the shucking enormous eyes his glasses give him! He even has some grey hair!” Chuck exclaimed.

“Ratman?” The dark-skinned boy frowned, visibly thinking about it.

“Who’s Ratman?” Teresa asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You know him. His real name is Janson Paige. But Ratman sounded better. I mean, look at his face!” Alby shrugged.

“Oh, yeah, I know him! He is in my biology class!” The girl said in shock.

“We must go now! He is dangerous for our kind!” Thomas pleaded.

The two Big Ones nodded and began to prepare their battle plan: Teresa volunteered to go directly to his flat and ask for help for a dissertation they had to hand next week, so she could enter his flat with the Borrowers in her bag. Then she would just have to distract him long enough to let the Borrowers find their friends and free them. Alby was going to wait outside of the flat in case there was a problem, which didn’t please him at all: he didn’t like the idea of leaving Teresa with the guy. But to try to reason with Teresa was like trying to stop a river with a straw. In no time she had made a space for the little ones in her bag and invited them on board with an excited smile. Alby has to remind her that they were going to save the Borrowers, not going to Disneyland, which got him a death glare from the girl.

The most difficult part of the preparation was to convince Thomas’ parents to trust the Big Ones and get them to climb into the bag. Brenda was the first one to give in and to join her son and the chubby boy and as soon as she got in, Jorge just followed, not entertaining the possibility of letting go of his wife and his son over this. Teresa and Alby left the apartment and ran all the way to their target: it was already the beginning of the afternoon and they couldn’t risk waiting any longer for the safety of the little ones that had been captured. Alby wished his friend good luck and watched her go into the building before readying himself for a long wait, his eyes tracing the remains of his old house.

Teresa climbed the stairs two by two, trying to hurry but without hurting her little passengers. She took a few seconds to catch her breath and have a look in her bag: Thomas and Chuck smiled encouragingly to her, thumbs up. She smiled back and rang, hearing her own heart beating fast at her temples. The seconds passed and with them more doubts arose: was she going to make it? Will he let her in? Or worse, was he even there? A clicking sound alerted her and she stiffened, trying to find something convincing to say to the boy who just appeared in front of her.

“Hey. How are you? I’m Teresa, we –“

“Are in the same biology class.” The boy cut her off. “I know you.”

He looked at her with a sort of suspicion. It was true that they never really talked: Teresa was a beautiful, intelligent girl, with a great sense of humour; in a few words, she was quite popular. Janson was entirely the opposite: he was a bit taller than her, very thin and round-shouldered; he had thick, round glasses that made his eyes much bigger, too big for his rodent face. They were so different that it could almost be the plot of a bad movie: the beautiful heroine and the ugly bad-guy. She smiled nonetheless and bit her bottom lip as if embarrassed.

“Right... I... I was wondering if you would help me with the biology dissertation we have to hand next week?”

“Me? Helping you?” Janson raised an eyebrow. “You’re the top of the class. How would I help you?”

And it was true: she was the best student of her year. The boy visibly didn’t appreciate admitting that, but she had to keep going. So she smiled and shrugged one shoulder, as if very pleased by a compliment she thought she didn’t deserve (even she totally did).

“Well... There’s one tiny thing that I don’t understand and it totally blocked me. Could you help me, please? I know you’re second in class so I’m pretty sure you can... Just wondered if you would?”

“Why would I help you? I could surpass you with that work.” He stated.

Teresa wanted to clobber him to death. But she definitely couldn’t show it. Instead, she opened her mouth in a shocked and hurt expression she had often used against her parents and many teachers, her big blue eyes doing all the work. The boy seemed a little taken aback, probably thinking that the girl would get angry and leave; but it was not enough and Teresa was beginning to worry: how could she get in if he didn’t let her trick him?

“Janson?” A female voice called. “Who is it?”

A woman appeared behind the boy. She was a tight round-faced woman with her blond hair pulled back in a perfect bun which gave her a severe appearance. She looked at the boy who seemed to be her son and then at Teresa with what the girl thought was a worried expression, but the woman smiled politely nonetheless.

“Good afternoon, young lady. Are you a friend of my son?”

“Good afternoon, Madam.” Teresa said with the most polite expression she could manage. “I’m in the same biology class as Janson and came to ask for some help with a piece of work.”

“Oh.” The woman smiled more gently, maybe a little proud of her son too, and she extended her hand to the girl. “Welcome then. I’m Ava Paige. Janson’s mother.”

“Mother...” Her son growled.

“Oh, come on, Janson. Nobody ever comes here. Be a gentleman and don’t leave that poor girl outside.”

The boy stiffened but finally retreated into the flat, probably in some sort of “follow me” gesture. Teresa didn’t hesitate and grabbed this chance, sincerely thanking Janson’s mother when passing in front of her; she followed the boy they called Ratman down the corridor to a room that seemed to be his bedroom judging by the bed she could see from the open door. Janson stopped just in front of her and looked her in the eye.

“Not here.” He closed the door. “I don’t want you in my room. We’ll go in the study.”

He opened a door just aside and went in the room. Teresa frowned slightly: why not his room? Was it because of the Borrowers trapped inside that he didn’t want her to see? She inhaled and put her bag on the floor, opened, near the closed door, asking where she could put her coat, taking her time to open it and take it off. Chuck, Thomas and his parents took advantage of it and snuck out of their hiding to get into the room by pulling themselves under the door. The little ones breathed deeply, their blood racing in their veins as they could hear Teresa step away from the door and walk into the study, the door closing behind her.

“We did it...” Thomas whispered. “Now, let’s find the others.”

They all nodded and agreed to split into two teams to search the room as fast as they could. Thomas and Chuck took the right side of the room, Brenda and Jorge heading for the left side. It was almost as big as the living room of Alby’s grandmother, which was quite stressful for the two Gladers who were dying to find their friends. The room was a mess and it was quite complicated for the little ones to move forward on the ground, so Thomas chose to climb on the furniture to have a better view. He took the double-sided tape and put it under his shoes and in the palm of his hands, just like he had seen Newt do it.

“Right. I’m gonna climb up there and then, I’ll throw you a rope and pull you up, okay?”

“Okay!” Chuck agreed, very excited to be able to do what normally was reserved for the runners.

Thomas offered him a quick smile before climbing on the desk. When watching Newt doing it, angry if not furious, it had seemed easy but it was not: he gritted his teeth and pulled himself up with all the strength he could muster. His heart pounded horribly in his chest, threatening to fail him as big drops of sweat burned his temples. Half the way up, he was already short winded, his arms and legs aching, not to mention his side. He breathed deeply twice and forced himself to continue: Teresa would not be able to hold Janson’s attention forever. He winced and groaned on the last inches before dragging himself onto the desk surface, feeling like dying. He rolled onto his stomach and looked in his backpack for the rope, searching his surroundings somewhere to tie it. He opted for a mug and then threw the rope to his friend.

“Tie it around your waist in case you fall!”

“No shit!” Chuck snorted.

When he was ready, he climbed along the rope, Thomas pulling it up to help him. Chuck was not a runner but he had a strong will which was a good thing: Thomas was amazed by the efforts Chuck was making to climb up. But when he was almost at the end, one of his feet slipped and the smaller boy began to fall, wide-eyed. Thomas let go of the rope to jerk his hand to his friend and grabbed Chuck’s hand in his, bitting his bottom lip to hold in a cry of agony when his side met the hard material of the desk. He tasted blood as he forced himself to straighten and to drag Chuck onto the top of the desk. They let themselves fall on the hard surface, the two boys panting heavily and catching their breath as they looked around them, in the room, trying to see something, anything. But their friends were nowhere to be seen.

“Thomas...”

“What?” The brunette kept searching the room with his eyes.

“What if they are not here? We can’t do all the rooms of this place.” Chuck swallowed difficultly, fear evident in his voice.

“Then we will have to.” Thomas said resolutely.

He sighed but didn’t stop looking: they must be somewhere! Then suddenly he heard it: knocks! He volte-faced immediately and smiled as he saw them: Jeff, Minho and Frypan. They were smiling, visibly happy and relieved to see the two Gladers, but as soon as they stepped in their direction, the trio gestured them frenetically to not move too quickly and not to make a sound. Thomas frowned and looked around: their friends were behind sort of a wall of glass, sweating, with feet in the earth. Or was it sand? It was a big structure, half hidden by a sheet. The two Gladers exchanged a look and then approached slowly to see what was frightening their friends. And they needed all their courage to not scream.

An enormous snake was balled-up at the other end of the terrarium, on a branch. Only a dozen centimetres from their unarmed friends. Thomas gulped, his mouth opening slightly as a frozen grip closed on his stomach: what could they do now? His thoughts were running as his friends looked at them. Minho gestured him to follow and walked along the pane, panicking the brunette as he approached the snake, but the Asian just stopped near a gap closed by a grating. Thomas followed and put his hand on Minho’s fingers, whispering.

“Are you crazy? Go back to Jeff and Frypan!”

“Can’t.” The Glade’s leader sighed. “I’ve inspected this shucking prison as much as I can but there’s no way out. Only this grating here and two others identical.”

“There must be a way out!” Thomas insisted. “He must feed it!”

“The top of this prison can be lifted but we can’t do it: it’s definitely too heavy.” Minho pressed his lips together.

“Shuck...” The brunette furiously scatched his scalp, trying to think.

“The Big One said that the snake will eat us during the night.” The Asian growled. “I’m not really a fan.”

Thomas exhaled deeply. How could they do that without the help of a Big One? They couldn’t ask for Teresa without Janson seeing it. He shook his head, feeling desperately helpless. But Minho wasn’t the kind of person to cry about his fate.

“You must help the others.”

“Where are they?”

“Up there.” His friend pointed to the roof.

Just in front of a large bookcase, there was a bird cage dangling at the end of a chain. It was hanging loose at almost a Big One’s size from the ground. How were they going to save them? Thomas felt his heart sinking a bit more and Chuck voiced his exact thoughts:

“You must be shucking kidding me...”

 

_**To be continued...** _


	13. The rescue mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Borrowers are in a cage, dangling in thin air. How can Thomas, Chuck and his parents save them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: Betad by FifiB! :-)
> 
> My computer being dead, the updates are all from my phone. I hope it is good.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> ****

Newt fell asleep from exhaustion: his healing leg was already taking a good part of his strength as he had to adapt to his limp, learn how to walk with it; and now the stressful experience of facing what had been a nightmare for the past eight years: Janson. He hadn't moved when the Big One had captured him, totally frozen by an instinctive fear. He even felt ashamed of that. But the worst part has been to see Janson putting Jeff, Frypan and Minho in the terrarium with the snake. He had screamed and cried along with many of his friends, totally helpless. After many hours of crying and pleading and insulting and begging, he had blacked out. He was leaning against a warm body: half opening his eyes, he could see Gally's legs on each side of his body, his arms slumped on the floor, visibly resting if not sleeping. But that was not what had woken him. He frowned as he heard something: a voice, a call.

“Newt!”

Recognising this voice, he suddenly bolted up, half knocking the Builder's chin in his way, making him groan. But the blonde couldn't care less as he ran to the bars of their cage, watching out to not slip between them and take a lethal fall. In the bookcase, on the shelf almost just in front of him, half a meter away or so: Thomas, Chuck, Brenda and Jorge. Thomas’ relief was visible upon seeing him.

“Newt...”

“Tommy!” He let out, a baffled smile pulling on his lips.

At his half whisper half cry, the other Borrowers in the bird cage got up to see the rescue team. Incredulous and relieved smiles parted their faces as they saw them, even if they were only four and probably as helpless as them. A wave of murmurs washed over them before Gally told them to shut up, not wanting to alert the Big One, wherever he was. Thomas looked at his second-in-command and friend.

“How are you?”

“Apart of being trapped and dangling in the air? I'm fine.” The blond smirked, joylessly.

“And the others?” The brunette insisted.

“Everyone is alive.” Newt replied, his expression darkening. “For now... Minho, Jeff and Frypan are-”

“I know. We're gonna find a way to set you free.” Thomas assured, even if still had no idea how they were going to do that.

They have been here for more or less half an hour judging by the clock on the edge of the desk, just beside the bed. They had to hurry: Thomas didn’t think that Teresa could distract Janson for more than one hour. And that was if they were lucky enough. The brunette was not that optimistic. The four of them were trying to find a way to reach the bird cage: a ruler? Not long enough, besides how would they carry it to the shelf? No, definitely not. Brenda had an idea and went back to the desk with the help of the boys holding the rope she used to go down.

“What is she doing?” Thomas asked to his father.

“If only I knew... Your mother has always been very inventive.” Jorge smiled tenderly as he looked at his wife.

Brenda was rummaging through the mess on the desk, visibly looking for something in particular. A smile parted her face as she found a paper clip, it was all she needed since she could find the rest in their backpacks. She came back as fast as she could and gave the paper clip to the boys, asking them to unfold it while she looked in the backpacks.

It was not the most brilliant idea she ever had but it was the only one she had right now that could lead to a result. She finally found an elastic band in one of the bags and she swiftly took the needle Chuck had put in Thomas' backpack, smiling with satisfaction.

“I think it can do it.”

“What are you thinking of?” Her husband asked, sweating as his son and he finished slowly unfolding the paper clip.

“A bow.” She replied, cutting the elastic band in two with one of their knives. “I'm gonna try to send them a rope. So they can come here.”

“Do you think you can throw anything that far?” Thomas asked.

“I'll try with that needle.” She explained while sliding their rope into the needle's hole and tying it.

“Mom, Newt may not be able to do it with his leg.” The brunette whispered.

His mother looked up at him. She didn't need any more words to see the distress in her boy's eyes, she gently put a hand on his cheek and gave him a sympathetic smile.

“I know... We will find something.”

Her voice didn't have the conviction she wished it would have but she couldn't really lie to her son: they would try to save as many Gladers as they could, but maybe they could not save them all. She made her bow in silence, trying to not think too much about Thomas only a few centimetres away from her and who was staring at the cage as if he could rip it off with just his will. Newt was staring back at him, his hands grasping the bars of their prison: he wasn't stupid and he could tell, just by observing, what they were preparing. And what it could mean for him. He could read the sadness in Thomas' eyes and so much more. The brunette could see the same in his eyes, the blonde was sure of it. A silent exchange.

Gally got up and began to organise their side: they had to get cover as much as they could to not be accidentally hit by the needle-arrow. They all obeyed without question, leaving as much space as they could. On the other side, Brenda finished arming the bow, Thomas holding one side, Jorge the other one, and Chuck was holding the rope slightly up in the air so it didn't take Brenda with it by accident. She aimed, her heart beating fast: having children in front of her was not helping her nerves. They were all more or less Thomas' age. They could all be her son. She deeply inhaled and shot. The needle flew in the air, fast and dangerous, but missed the cage and flew right under.

“Damn it!” Thomas' mother swore.

“You need more strength. Give it to me.” Jorge said. “Boys, pull back the needle.”

Chuck and Thomas obeyed as fast as they could, pulling on the rope as if their own lives depended on it. Which was almost the case. Once they got it back, they looked puzzled as Jorge lay on the floor, on his back, and put his feet on the distorted paper clip, his hands pulling on the elastic and the needle.

“I'll need some help for aiming.” He grunted, pushing the bow with his feet and pulling the elastic band with his hands as much as he could.

They all reacted like one man: Thomas and Chuck went on both side of the bow to help levelling it while Brenda knelt behind her husband and leant in to aim.

“Higher.” She ordered.

And the boys obeyed. They needed three or so orders before Brenda shouted to fire. Jorge let go and the needle flew once more through the air, making a loud sound as it hit one of the bars, rebounding. They all held their breath as a gap opened in every single heart: it hadn't passed the bars. But suddenly a hand grabbed the falling needle.

“Gally!!!” Newt shouted.

The Borrower dangerously balanced out of the cage, his free hand thankfully grabbing one of the cage's bars, preventing him from falling. As one man, all the Gladers ran to help their friend, grabbing the Builder and pulling him up back into the cage, the needle in his hand. Shouts of congratulations and insults mixed as the Gladers could breathe again.

“Don't ever do that again, you bloody shank!” Newt growled, wondering how he avoided the heart attack.

“Well. Got it, didn't I?” Gally smirked, too proud to admit he had been scared to no end, already imagining his body on the ground.

“You did.” The blonde sighed. “All right, one by one!”

The Gladers nodded at the order of their second-in-command and waited that the rescue team had secured the rope to go, one after the other. It wasn't easy: they had to cross their legs above the rope and guide themselves with their hands. Having to look backward and they could see the ground far away. A lethal fall. Newt gave each one a signal to go, anxiously looking at the clock on the desk: they weren't slow but they weren't very fast either.

They needed almost ten minutes to get everyone on the other side, except for Gally and Newt. Those two argued about who should go first, the blonde insisting for the Builder to go first, but Gally was stubborn and wanted his friend to go first.

“I'm the second-in-command, Gally! I will be the last one. Now go! That's an order!”

The Builder was not at all pleased but he finally obeyed, hanging on the rope. Newt looked as the last one of his Gladers was reaching the shelf and breathed, relieved. At least most of them were going to make it. Then he saw it. Thomas’ gaze. The brunette wasn’t a fool. They knew without needing any words: the blonde couldn’t do it, not with his injured leg. It had healed a bit but it was still painful. He saw and heard the others calling for him, not understanding as he slightly shook his head.

“Why isn’t he coming? What is he waiting for?” Chuck exclaimed, uncertainty in his voice.

“I don’t know.” Zart frowned. “Maybe he is afraid of heights?”

“Newt has never been afraid of heights.” Clint rolled his eyes.

“No.” Gally looked up to Thomas. “He can’t do it, right?”

Thomas didn’t look at the Builder, even when feeling all the Gladers looking at him expectantly, many in horror. He just shook his head, feeling his eyes stinging as they watered. This was not acceptable: there must be a way. He balled his hands into fists, his nails digging painfully into his palms, but this slight pain was nothing compared to his heart.

“Go. All of you. I'm gonna stay.”

“What?!”

A chorus of voices roared at his side but he just shook his head: he wouldn't leave Newt. Not again. And certainly not here. Brenda caught her son's arm and tried to reason with him but she knew she couldn't change his mind, neither did she believe in her own words. Thomas pressed his lips together in a thin line, trying to think: they didn't have much time left, they had to hurry.

He took the tool pouch at his waist and handed it back to Gally who raised his eyebrows at its sight. He took it and looked the brunette in the eyes, visibly waiting for him to say something. Thomas wasn't sure about this idea but it was, once again, the only one he had, so he just murmured.

“Those are the only tools we have... Try to do something to help Minho, Jeff and Frypan. There’re some kind of gratings. See if you can break one with your tools. Take the others with you, for help.”

“Right.” The Builder didn't like it, but left his bad temper for later. “What about you?”

“I'm gonna find something to save Newt.”

He had no idea how, and Gally wasn't stupid. The Builder exhaled an annoyed breath and nodded slightly a few times. He looked at the Gladers and then back to Thomas. They hadn't quite come to like each other, but they had some respect one for the other. He put his hand on the brunette’s shoulder.

“Gonna do my best.”

“Thanks.” Thomas whispered.

“But Zart, Clint, Chuck, Ben and Aris stay with you.” Gally deadpanned.

The brunette's eyes widened, he stayed dumbfounded a few seconds before trying to protest but the Builder wasn't having it, pretexting that Thomas would be pretty dumb if he had an idea that needed the help of many hands. In exchange, he accepted to take Thomas' parents with him, even with them disagreeing.

“All right.” Thomas finally sighed.

“Good luck, Greenie.” Gally smirked before giving the order to move to the others.

“You too, shank.” The brunette snorted and then looked to his friends. “Well, hope you guys are pretty inventive.”

They all looked at each other, hoping that someone would have a genius spark. That was when Thomas noticed they were not all there: in front of him stood Chuck, Zart, Clint and Ben. He frowned and looked around, looking for Aris. The boy was younger than him and they had barely spoken together during the time Thomas was at the Glade, but Aris was known to be a strange mix between Newt and Gally: sarcasm all over the place and a pretty strong temper. He was smaller and thinner than Thomas, not fully grown yet, but his eyes betrayed his vivid mind. He had olive skin and dark hair cut surprisingly short, which made him look even younger.

The boy was standing not far from them, definitely overthinking. His eyes kept going back and forth between the cage and some black thing on the shelf. Ben followed Thomas’ gaze and frowned.

“Aris, what're you doing?”

“Having fun. Can't you tell?” The boy grunted, not even looking at them.

“Have you found something that can help us?” Thomas tried, approaching the younger Borrower.

Aris looked up at him, as if he was evaluating something about him. But then he shrugged and gestured to the black box he was looking at a few seconds ago.

“Big Ones use that to measure distances. They call it measuring tape, I think.”

“Well, how can that help us?” Chuck grumbled, crossing his arms and showing that courtesy was not really the two boys' priorities.

“You asked for an idea. Find another one if you can, jelly brain.” Aris returned, almost with a growl.

“Stop you two.” Clint intervened. “Tell us what you're thinking.”

“A bridge.” Thomas whispered, suddenly understanding.

They all looked at him with surprised expression: the boys wondering what he was talking about or if he had just thought about something else, and Aris with a small incredulous smirk as he got that the brunette understood his idea. Visibly pleased.

“You want to make a bridge out of it.”

“Yes. This thing is quite strong. I think someone about Newt's weight can walk on it.” Aris nodded. “We could just unroll it in Newt's direction and he can attach it somewhere...”

“Do you think it could work?” Clint asked, nervous.

“It's worth a try!” Thomas smiled slightly as hope had risen in him again.

They worked all together to put the measuring tape up and Chuck and Aris, being the youngest, were ordered to hold it straight while Ben, Zart, Clint and Thomas did their best to unroll it. It was quite difficult but with the four of them, they could do it, trying to prevent the measuring tape from rolling back before it reached the cage. Newt was observing them, incredulous, and his heart beating fast with excitement: maybe he could make it after all. He extended his hand as the measuring tape was getting close to him, praying for it not to bend.

They kept working together, pulling more and more of the tape out, sweating and panting under the effort. Newt grimaced as he stretched his arm as much as he could and let out a grunt of victory as his fingers grabbed the measuring tape. A smile finally pulled on the blonde's lips as he pushed the metal tip of the tape into a little interstice in the bottom of the cage, near the bars. The measuring tape was like a little road with his friends at the end.

“Well, I'm very grateful you helped me!” Teresa's voice raised at the other side of the door all the Borrowers looking at it in horror. “I don't know what I'd have done without you.”

“RUN!” Thomas cried to the blonde, snapping him out of his trance.

Not thinking twice, Newt broke into a desperate run, too afraid to stop as his leg burned with pain, risking the fall with each step and praying for the measuring tape not to jump out of the interstice. His limp was making him slower but he could run nonetheless.

“Maybe we could... I don't know, have a drink one day so I can thank you properly.” Teresa offered as the door's handle went slowly down.

Thomas opened his arms, just like Newt did, barely in time before they collided, the brunette's arms embracing his friend's body as the blonde captured his neck. The measuring tape fell down from the bookcase with a loud thump.

“What was that?” Janson frowned before opening the door hastily.

His eyes went to the terrarium first and then noticed the measuring tape on the ground. He looked up to the cage and gasped, running to it. Teresa felt her heart freeze but went nonetheless into the room, putting her open bag on the ground, near the desk, and hoping that the little ones could make it. She did her best to look concerned, turning to Janson.

“Hey, what's the pro-”

“Where are they?!” The boy suddenly shouted furiously.

“What...?” Teresa stepped back as he volte-faced to her.

“WHERE ARE THEY?!” He cried angrily, his eyes wide open with rage, making the girl's heart skip a beat before racing out of fear.

“I don't even know what you are talking about!” She managed to snap back, not daring to glance at her bag in case the Borrowers were climbing into it.

“WHERE ARE THEY?!” Janson yelled again, coming to her and grabbing her shoulders.

“You're hurting me!” Teresa shouted, her heart thundering in her chest. “HELP!! MRS PAIGE!! HELP!!”

Thankfully, the boy's mother came running, stopping just an instant, mortified to see her son shaking the girl as if she was some poor raked doll, before she sprinted to the room. Ava grabbed Janson and managed to separate them, yelling at her son.

“What do you think you're doing?!”

“She took them!!” He screamed, almost looking despaired now.

“I wasn't even in that room!” Teresa yelled angrily. “You were with me the entire time! How could I take something in your room without you noticing?!”

“What did she take, Janson?” Ava cut them, giving a hard look at her son.

“The-the... The small ones! The tiny people!” Janson answered frantically, and Teresa wondered if his mother was aware of that.

Anger fell from Ava's face as she looked at her boy. She seemed hopeless, as if shocked and ready to cry. Teresa didn't wait more and took her bag, looking hastily in it as to be sure she hadn't lost anything. The Borrowers were in there, looking at her with sympathy. Minho raised a thumb to tell her they were all in there and she half closed her bag to put it on her shoulder, volte-facing to the son and his mother.

“Are you really listening to him? He's crazy! I've been in the study with him the entire time!”

“Miss...” Ava turned to look at her in shock.

“He's crazy and I should report that to the police! He attacked me!” She yelled again and stormed out.

She was almost running to the front door, short winded. A hand suddenly grabbed hers and she turned, ready to scream when she saw the woman. Ava's breath was hollow, her lips were trembling and her eyes watering; she was struggling for her words and Teresa never thought that the proud woman she saw earlier could look so dishevelled and troubled. Ava pressed Teresa's hand in hers.

“Excuse me, I forgot your name but... Please, don't go to the police. I'll take him to the hospital, to a psychiatrist or whatever but... Please don't go to the police.” She pleaded.

“Let go of me.” Teresa managed to say bitterly, her throat tight and her eyes shining with tears. She violently pulled her arm to get free. “Let go! Your son is crazy! And dangerous! I don't wanna see him near me ever again! Never!”

And with that, she fled, running down the stairs of the building to stop two levels down when hearing the apartment's door close. She put her bag down and sat on the stairs, letting go of the tears she was holding back and pulling her knees to her chest, trembling. She had been so afraid. She had felt so vulnerable against this boy so angry and full of rage. Her sobs echoed in the empty corridors. The Borrowers looked sympathetically from the half opened bag, exchanging glances: they were Borrowers but they were boys first of all, and seeing a girl crying was troubling them. Minho extracted himself from the bag and climbed on the jeans of the girl to stand on her knees, now at eye-level with her.

“Hey...”

She looked up. Her blue eyes were red from crying and her cheeks were damp with tears. Minho pressed his lips together in a thin line and gently caressed her cheek with his hand, wiping a tear. She sniffed, her eyes blinking furiously, as the Borrower smiled gently.

“Don't cry... He's not worth your tears.”

“Thanks, Minho.” She offered a weak smile, wiping her cheeks with one hand. “Sorry for that.”

“For what?” He asked, a gentle smile still on his lips.

“For crying like a little girl?” Teresa growled, not very happy to state the obvious.

“Oh. And I was thinking you were referring to the fact that you're looking like a jellyfish after a storm.” The Asian smirked with a shit-eating grin, putting his hands in his pockets.

“You know I could just teach you how to fly with only one finger, right?” The dark haired girl groaned, but a faint smile was now pulling on her lips. “How do you know what a jellyfish after a storm looks like by the way, Mr Genius?”

“I like watching TV with the Big Ones. Always very instructive.” He shrugged with a sly smile.

“Oh, my...” She laughed softly and then looked back at him, with a small smile. “Thanks, Minho.”

“Anytime.” The Borrower said sincerely. “Ready?”

“Yeah. Let's take you guys back to your home.”

She pressed her palms on her cheeks to erase the last traces of tears, looking briefly into her pocket mirror and huffing: Alby would notice the dried tears and the swollen eyes anyway. She offered her hand to the Glade's leader and waited for him to climb on it to put him back in her bag as she got up. Minho thanked his friends for grabbing him as he slid down in the bag and noticed then their shit-eating grins.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Newt answered for them all, lifting his hands and shaking his head but with a smirk anyway.

Minho rolled his eyes and decided not to answer, much to his friends' amusement. They heard Teresa getting out of the building, and the steps of another person: Alby was soon at her side. He watched her only a few seconds before the anger distorted his features, his hands in hers.

“I'm gonna kill this bastard.”

“No, leave it. I'm fine.” Teresa countered. “I just wanna get outta here. And the lil' ones wanna go home.”

“Teresa...” The dark-skinned boy was visibly containing himself.

“Please, Alby. Just please.”

Her words seemed to convince him to let go for now and he simply nodded before they walked back to Alby's grandmother's residence. The two of them looked around before going into the narrow alley and squatting in front of the window. Teresa opened her bag and watched the little ones dragging themselves out of it. Many of them looked at the desolate scene in front of them with shaking heads: it had been their home for years. Others even cried, not ashamed of letting go their tears. Newt swallowed with some difficulty, not quite believing that this was their Glade; his hand grabbed Thomas' one, holding it tight.

Alby and Teresa exchanged a glance, not daring to say anything but feeling so bad for their little friends. Minho patted the girl's knee to get her attention and offered a weak smile, visibly exhausted but still fighting inside of him.

“Mind lifting me?”

Teresa nodded and presented him her hand, palm up. He climbed onto it and waited for her to lift him a few centimetres higher so he could see all his friends and men. He inhaled deeply and shouted.

“Gladers!” He looked at all of them as they looked back at him. “The Glade has been for many of you, and for me, a home, a safe place for us to live... And now it's gone.”

Thomas felt a sting in his heart, instinctively putting an arm around Newt's shoulders and pulling him against him. The blonde didn't fight it, he even rested his head on the brunette's shoulder, feeling tired and down as probably a lot of them did. But Minho spoke again, loud and clear.

“Well, all that is bullshit.” He watched as everyone frowned and looked at him in perplexity. “The Glade has never been my home. Nor my safe place to live. The Glade is gone and I don't give a shit.”

“Minho, what are you saying?” Ben asked, incredulous.

“The Gladers are my home.” Minho finally said. “Everyone is alive and fine and I couldn't wish for more. So yeah, I don't care if my hammock has been torn into shreds, nor do I give a shit about the workshop, the storage, the kitchen or the rest. We will just build it again. And it will be better!”

The Gladers nodded and began to voice their approval. Alby and Teresa looked at each other with amazement before looking back at the Borrowers, watching what kind of a leader the Asian was. He was almost yelling now.

“'Cuz we learn from our mistakes! We will learn how to build a better home for all of us! Even bigger! And it will be beautiful!” A smile pulled on Minho's lips as he saw the others responding more and more enthusiastically. “The builders know now how to make better tools! We know what a maze our storage area was and Chuck will know how to organise it from the beginning! The hammocks will be better! Everything will be! But for that, I need the help of every single one of you! So are you with me?!”

“Yeah!” Thomas shouted along with the others, galvanised.

“I DIDN'T HEAR YOU, SHANKS! ARE YOU SHUCKING HERE?!!!” The Asian screamed at the top of his lungs.

“YEEAAAH!!!” They all yelled.

“He is incredible...” Newt laughed slightly at Thomas' side.

“He is. Definitely.” The brunette agreed.

“He always finds the right words.” The blonde murmured, a tender smile on his lips.

“He's a born leader.” Thomas whispered with a nod.

“Thomas?”

Both boys turned their head at the brunette's name. Brenda offered them a smile as she came closer with her husband. Jorge looked at the two boys and sighed before saying:

“Newt, I've been thinking... Well, I don't know anything about if you’re on your own... And I wondered if you'd accept if Brenda and I adopted you.”

“Sorry, what?” The blonde was baffled.

Thomas and he exchanged a glance, not really knowing what to think of such a proposition coming from nowhere. Was Jorge proposing that they become brothers? It was Brenda's laugh that snapped them out of their wondering, she visibly found them hilarious and she patted her husband’s shoulder.

“Honey, I think that adoption is not an option for Newt. Not by us at least.” She gave them a knowing glance and winked.

“What? Why are you-” Jorge didn't finish his sentence as he looked at the boys.

Thomas and Newt were staring into each other’s eyes, a knowing smile on their faces before they leant in and ravished each other's lips. Jorge stayed dumbfounded as his wife was laughing as if his face was the best joke of her life; the other Borrowers were just cooing, many of them applauding whilst others just rolled their eyes. Gally growled that they could at least wait for their room to be built, which made most of them laugh as well. They were alive, it was all that mattered. Newt smiled as he pulled back slightly, feeling the brunette’s hands on his hips, his own on the boy’s shoulders; he pressed their foreheads together.

“We have a lot of work to do. How about planning the layout of our room?”

A warm feeling emerged in Thomas’ chest at those words as he hugged the blonde tighter. Brenda smiled at the scene and knew that her son was going to live there, in the Glade, with the other boys. With THIS other boy. It was quite something to see her only child growing, becoming a man... But he wouldn’t be living very far from them. And he would always be her baby at heart. She kissed her husband on the cheek to get his attention and smiled.

“We should give a hand rebuilding everything, don’t you think?”

“We will help too.” Teresa smiled from the window, Alby nodding at her side. “I’m pretty sure I have about twenty shoeboxes.”

She laughed at the incredulous look of all the boys, Borrowers and human.

 

_**To be continued...** _


	14. At Teresa's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Borrowers can't stay in the Glade for now. Not yet. So Teresa brings them to her place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: Betad by FifiB a while ago but I totally forgot to correct it here!!! XD Sorry!

Teresa had convinced the Borrowers not to stay in the Glade for the moment: it was a  desolate  scene but most of all, they would be unarmed if Janson came back for them. So she said they could stay at Alby's home or hers to  give  them the time to  start rebuilding , so they would at least have a place to sleep and they could prepare some of the shoeboxes before bringing them to the Glade. The little ones accepted and took all the things they could save from the remains before climbing back into Teresa's bag.

 

"So ,  since the shoeboxes are at my place, we should go there." The girl thought out loud.

"Won't it be a problem with your parents?" Minho asked. "I mean, if we work on the shoeboxes, even in your room, they  would  see us."

"Oh, that won't be a problem: I don't live with my parents." Teresa  answered .

"You don't?" Thomas repeated, surprised since she was more or less their age .

"No. My dad is in prison and my mom isn't here anymore so I lived with my aunt and uncle for a few months in a city nearby but  with  my college being here, they just rented a flat for me. I'm on my own." The girl explained, looking then at her  friend . "Come for a sleepover?"

"Yeah, just have to tell my grandma and  get  my things." Alby agreed. "Won't be long."

He left them in an awkward silence, the Borrowers half embarrassed that the girl had told them her story. Had she felt obliged to tell them? They didn't know and felt bad about it. Thomas even more  so  since he was the one who asked, he looked at her from her  open  bag.

"I'm sorry." He said.

"About what?" She raised her eyebrows.

"I'm sorry for asking." The brunette added. "I shouldn't have."

"It's okay." Teresa smiled. "I miss my mom but I believe she's in a better place now. And my dad  only got  what he deserved. He's the reason she's not here anymore."

"Are... Is Alby in the same  position ?" Chuck asked. "Haven't even heard of his parents..."

"No. His parents have  jobs  that make them go abroad every now and then." She smiled. "But it's very kind of you to be concerned about that."

Thomas nodded slowly and remained silent, lost in his thoughts: Minho was an orphan, Newt  had watched  his parents  die  in front of him, Chuck had told him he didn't have  parents , Teresa's mother was dead and her father was in prison (what was a prison? Like a trap?), Alby's parents were away... And he hadn't seen any of the Gladers' families. He had always thought that his family was an average one but now he felt so lucky to have both of his parents and  their love . He felt lucky and  guilty at the same time. Newt's hand passed in front of his eyes, snapping him out of his dark thoughts.

"Told you already it was bad for you."

"What?" The brunette blinked.

"To think.  It’s visibly painful  when your brain works." The blonde stuck his tongue out at him.

Thomas groaned and wrinkled his nose, gently punching the boy's shoulder and making him laugh. Newt winked at him and then made a small movement of his head,  silently asking  what was going on in Thomas' head. The brunette sighed slightly and murmured:

"I feel kind of bad... Having my parents and all... With you guys around. Kind of... Guilty."

Newt raised his eyebrows in surprise and then chuckled, shaking his head before taking Thomas' hand in his own and  squeezing  it slightly. It wasn't much but the touch comforted the brunette and his second-in-command gave him a little  pat  on the head: he shouldn’t feel guilty about being lucky  enough  to have his family around him. Thomas gave him a smile and shrugged one shoulder, which brought him another tap, a little harder this time.

When Alby came back to them, they left. Teresa’s place was not very far for the two of them but it was quite a trip for the Borrowers: ten minutes by bus and ten more on foot. Minho had  the worst job  in the world to keep them quiet and in the bag since quite a few of them wanted to  see  what a bus looked like and  look at  the city through the window. Thomas was one of them to the sincere hilarity of the second-in-command who had to tell him multiple times that he would happily break his legs if he didn’t stay quiet. Teresa’s place was a little studio flat ( by a Big One’s standards ) in which you  first entered  a small kitchen with the bathroom  to the side , and then into the living room which was also her room. Her bed was neat and looked like a big comfortable sofa in the corner of the room thanks to all the pillows leaning against the wall; she also had a coffee table in the centre of the room on a thick carpet and a big wardrobe that took almost an entire wall.

“All right everyone.” She put her bag on the ground in the room. “You can get out. There’s no cat here. No animals. Just a goldfish.”

“What’s a goldfish?” The Borrowers asked as they came out of the bag.

“I’m gonna show you.” Teresa smiled as she went to the counter that separated the kitchen from the room.

She came back in seconds with quite a big fish bowl and put it on the ground so the Borrowers could see it. The boys stayed dumbfounded in front of it and many of them stepped back when the fish came nearby. Teresa laughed and took it back,  deciding  it was quite enough for the small ones .

“I think that you guys should rest for today. We’re gonna prepare you something for the night and we will work on your houses  tomorrow , what do you think?”

“Yeah.” Alby agreed. “You had a tough day.”

The Borrowers agreed and thanked the Big Ones for their hospitality. Alby offered to cook something for everyone while Teresa could prepare a place for the small ones to sleep and even make them take a shower or a bath. They could only agree, feeling  starved and knowing they stank . Thomas, Newt, Minho and a few others began to pull cotton  wool out of the packet Teresa gave them while she took an old shoebox out of her wardrobe: it was too old to make a suitable house for the Borrowers but it would be quite enough for tonight. She cut an entrance with her scissors and put the box on the ground,  leaving  the Gladers to bring the cotton inside, making kind of a giant bed for all of them. She brought them a silk scarf to make them some sort of a blanket.

The most complicated  part  was the shower: she definitely couldn’t shower them or bath them, it would have been awkward for everyone; and she couldn’t just  leave  them in the shower or the bathroom sink. She stayed a few minutes thinking before having an idea .

“Alby, when will diner be ready?”

“Huh, fifteen minutes of so?” He shrugged. “Why?”

“I’m going downstairs,  to  the toy store. I think I saw something the other day.” She smiled.

“Okay.” The dark-skinned boy laughed slightly.

“Want someone to come with you?” Minho offered.

“Yeah. Maybe we’ll find some stuff for your village.” Teresa offered her hand so the Asian could climb on it.

“It’s  ‘the Glade’. Not a village.” The boy grumbled.

“Whatever you say . Just stay hidden in my scarf and my hair, okay?”

Teresa left her flat and walked  down  the street to a store nearby. It was a toy store where she had  a good chance of finding  some kind of Playmobil things: she used to play  with it a lot  when she was only a kid. Minho was in her neck and she could sometimes feel him pushing her earring aside, making her smile and move her head so her earring would hit him, making him growl .

“You’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you?”

“I am.” She whispered, smirking.

She felt a pinch in her neck but didn’t reply,  feeling  amused. Going to the section she was interested in, she looked  to see  if there were people in the alley before pushing her hair  back  a bit so Minho could look to the Playmobil toys  too : she took a box with a pool and a shower.

“Ah, look at this: if I put water in the pool, the water goes into the shower. That should do it for tonight, right?”

“It’s cool!” The Asian agreed.

“I was sure I had seen something like that when I was doing some shopping for a  child’s  birthday.” She smiled, and then realisation hit her. “Oh my God!”

“What?” He instinctively stepped back in her scarf and her hair, just in case he needed to hide.

“ Lego !” She smiled wider. “We could use  Lego  to build stuff in your Glade!”

“ Lego ?” Minho repeated, raising an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

“I’m gonna show you.”

****

“What the...?”

Alby stepped back so Teresa could enter in the flat with a bag in each hand. He looked as she put everything on the coffee table, excited like a child on a Christmas day, and Minho sitting on her shoulder,  clinging to  her scarf for  dear  life as she moved all around the table to unpack everything.

“What is all that?” Newt asked from the ground, looking up at her.

“I found so many things!” She exclaimed, clapping her hands. “I’m gonna show you.”

“Put me down before I fall and DIE!” Minho growled.

Teresa laughed and put the Borrower on the ground before sitting to be more or less at their level and put the boxes on the ground as she enumerated them: the Playmobil pool with the shower, the Playmobil fire station (she insisted it was for the ladders) and a standard  Lego  box  with  about 2000 pieces. The Borrowers were looking at all the boxes with wide eyes, inspecting the pictures with curiosity.

“I thought about buying some kind of dormitories but there  weren’t  enough for all of you: I’d  have had  to buy six or seven boxes to have enough bunk beds.”

“And I told her not to by the Gary Slaughter castle.” Minho rolled his eyes.

"What? There's such  thing as  a Gally's Slaughter Castle?" Frypan asked, startled.

“It’s Harry Potter, dumbass.” Teresa sighed.

“Same thing!” The Asian replied. “What do you want us to do with a shucking castle?”

“I’d have liked a castle.” Newt smiled.

“She was ready to buy the entire store!” His friend and leader exclaimed.

“But there were so many cool things!” She groaned. “I just couldn’t choose. So I  bought  the Lego box: we can do a lot of things with that.”

“You’re too sweet.” The blonde gently said, touching her leg. “All this is... More than we could ever ask. But it’s very... Uncomfortable for us.”

“Why?” Teresa asked, not understanding.

“Because we are Borrowers. We borrow.” Newt explained softly. “We are not used to  receiving  presents. It’s very nice but… It’s kinda weird, you know...”

Teresa was, at  first, startled and then smiled, appreciating the little ones’ honesty. Alby called everyone for diner, giving a plate to Teresa and putting one  on the ground for the Borrowers before taking one for himself. The carbonara pastas  were  a great success even if the small ones struggled a little with the bacon strips, many of them  splilling  sauce and pasta all over them. Lucky they hadn’t taken a shower yet.

The Borrowers went  to  shower one by one, the others waiting and beginning to think about their Glade, how they would build it back up, and already drawing plans. The funny part of all this was that Teresa gave  each  one of them a piece of t-shirt to use as a towel and asked for all their clothes so she could wash them  meaning  quite a few of them were now walking  around  just with a piece of t-shirt to hide their  crown jewels . They had no problem being like that in front of the others, but in front of a girl, even a Big One,  proved to be  kind of a trial. Newt went last to the shower, getting in the bathroom and thanking Alby for putting warm water in the pool again. He waited for the Big One to leave the bathroom and went into the Playmobil shower, turning it on.

The water was warm, running down his  worn  out body in a delicious caress. Newt believed  he  could stay like this all his life, but suddenly a sound caught his attention and he looked behind him, only to face  deep  honey eyes. He smiled slightly, surprised .

"How did you  get  in?"

"Had to pull myself under the door." Thomas shrugged, only a piece of t-shirt around his waist that he let fall  to  the ground before entering  the  small plastic cubicle.

"You already took your shower before, remember?" The blonde smirked.

"Yeah... But I wanted a Newt option."

Newt smiled as Thomas came closer, his heart dancing in his chest, and let out a content sigh when feeling the brunette's hands  cup  his face and seeing him  lean in  to kiss him. It was gentle and tender, matching the  warmth  of the water dripping  over them . His own hands found their way to Thomas' torso, his fingers touching it  lightly , and a delightful shudder ran down his spine when the brunette embraced him, still kissing his lips. Their tongues danced and played together, sometimes accompanied by a low moan of  appreciation .

Thomas fingers slid  over  his skin, making him shiver once more, drawing long  intertwining  lines on his shoulder blades, his sides, his hips... His own breath shuddered as he pulled  back slightly  to breathe and their eyes locked. Thomas was staring at him with a tenderness he had rarely  seen .  It was as if he could feel his gaze caressing his skin. He smirked slightly.

"Missed me?"

"You have no idea."

Newt's smile dropped a bit as his heart skipped a beat, knowing that Thomas meant every single word. He swallowed and smiled again, shaking his head as he added playfully

"Already addicted to me?"

"I never thought we could make it... At  that  Big One's flat." The brunette  confided . "I never thought we could get everyone out. Especially when you stood alone in  that  big cage..."

"I didn't think  we would  either." The blonde admitted, his fingers instinctively scratching the dark haired scalp for some comfort.

"I thought that the others might have to drag me away. My parents or the others..." The brunette shook his head. "I couldn't leave  on  my own. I didn't want to leave you behind."

"You didn't." Newt smiled, pressing  his body against Thomas’ . "You stayed and fought to find a solution to save me... Thanks."

"It was Aris' idea." The Greenie sighed.

"But you caught me." His second-in-command smiled. "I knew you'd  catch  me."

Their faces came closer once more as their lips met. Thomas’ hands  lightly fondled  the  small  of his friend’s back, his nails  delicately scratching  his fair skin, as he hugged him a little tighter.  He pulled his head back slightly, sighing  lowly, pressing his forehead against Newt’s, and opened his eyes to let himself drown in those dark chocolate lakes. He had never felt more peaceful and it was in a very low voice that he murmured:

“I love you, Newt.”

The blonde’s eyes widened slightly at those words, staring back at the brunette  in  disbelief. His mouth  stayed open , no words coming  either  into his mouth  or  his mind; he tightened  the embrace suddenly  and pressed  his mouth almost violently against Thomas’.   R avishing his lips like  it fulfilled  an urgent need. Thomas had a little smile as his heart jumped in happiness at such reaction from Newt and kissed him back. Nothing mattered anymore: not the place, not the time, not even their friends in the other room. It was just them, just the two of them.

Newt didn’t fight when Thomas pushed him gently to lean him against the shower ’s  plastic wall, the warm water washing  over  them.  His  eyes were closed as the brunette let go of his lips and pressed kisses  to  the corner of his mouth,  to  his jaw,  down  his neck, tearing a pleased sigh  from his  throat. His fingers scratched the nape of Thomas’ neck and between his shoulder blades as he let the boy  show  him more tenderness  than  he ever had  before . All the brunette’s kisses and caresses were gentle, soft, tender... It was incomparable with their first time together: it had been rough, clumsy, and desperate; now, it was like those words Thomas had said were palpable, it was tender and lovely.

Thomas came back to his lips, not getting enough and kissing him again and again. Newt spread his legs to let him come closer,  almost letting out  a moan  upon  feeling their awakened members pressing together. His breath shuddered against the brunette’s skin as he  was  diving back into his exposed neck, but Newt didn’t let him, pulling him up gently but firmly by is hair to make him  look into his eyes.

“Make love to me, Tommy.” He whispered.

Was it Thomas’ heart he heard drumming so loud, or was it his own? He didn’t know anymore. He was just aware of  the  skin against his, those lips capturing his, this scent possessing him, this voice captivating him. He let out a moan as the brunette slid down his throat, nibbling and sucking his skin with a delightful softness. He almost hiccupped  upon  feeling those nails slowly dancing on his both his sides, driving him out of his mind.

“Tommy...” The blonde whispered.

But the runner didn’t reply, just kneeling in front of him and letting his lips and tongue  dancing across  his stomach and his groin. Newt let his head topple  backward against the wall, his eyes closed and biting his lower  lip  as he felt Thomas’ warm breath  getting lower and lower . His lips parted  with a sudden, short inhale  and his eyes rolled back as the brunette kissed him there, teasing him with the tip of his tongue; and he needed all his will  not to let  out a small cry when Thomas took him in to  his mouth. His breath quickened and his fingers found their way into the dark hair, trembling against his scalp:  evidently  the brunette had been an attentive pupil, tearing moans and sighs from the Glade’s second-in-command as easily as if he was playing an instrument he had known his entire life.

The brunette’s mouth  dragged  back and forth  over  him, so warm that the blonde almost wondered if the water had  turned  cold after a while, or if it was even  water he felt on his skin  and not  his own sweat. Thomas’s hand replaced his mouth as he got up to capture his lips again,  the movement  making Newt  whine in pleasure. The brunette’s other hand slid into his golden hair and balled into a fist, pulling on his hair to make him open his eyes as he called his name .

“Newt, look at me.” He waited for the boy to obey and then whispered. “Guide me.”

The blonde had totally forgotten that it was only Thomas’ second time and he smiled slightly. He nodded and gently pushed away the brunette’s hands before turning around and presenting  his  back.

“Come.” He murmured.

Newt almost purred at the heat of Thomas’ body pressing against his. His hand gently  took  his companion’s wrist and guided his hand back to his arousal, sighing at the feeling of those fingers wrapping around him. His head  fell  backward s , resting on Thomas’ shoulder as he closed his eyes, a smile pulling on his lips as he felt a kiss in the crook of his neck. He could feel the erection against his buttocks, pressing against his skin and  causing him to whine  with  need. He wanted to feel him entirely his, entirely in him.

The blonde parted  his legs further  and gently pushed against the brunette’s body, pressing his ass against his hard member. It wasn’t subtle nor deeply thought  out , Newt just wanted him more than anything. He bit his bottom lip as Thomas seemed to get it and pulled  back slightly  so he could  position himself correctly.

“But... Your leg... Isn’t it gonna hurt?” He asked.

“I can  handle it.” The blonde growled,  too  frustrated to wait any longer.

“Okay.” Thomas whispered,  pressing a kiss to  his shoulder and  putting  his hand on Newt’s hips.

“Newt! You’ve been in there for a while and – OH SHUCK!” Minho’s voice almost made them break their necks  with  how hastily they looked up to the door, only to see the Asian with a hand  over  his eyes and turning around. “Sorry guys, never intended to burn my eyes and brain like that. AH! TERESA! DON’T COME IN! EVERYTHING IS FINE, I’M GETTING OUT!”

Both boys stared at him as he walked away and pulled himself under the door of the bathroom, frozen to their bones despite the  warmth  of the water dripping on them. They stayed motionless for a few more seconds, their faces heating up  turning  bright red  from  embarrassment, and Thomas let  go  of his member,  now very aware  that their bubble was no more. He cleared his throat .

“Huh... Newt, I, huh... I’m sorry but, huh...”

“No, I get it.” The blonde straightened up, wrapping his arms around his own stomach. “It kinda killed the mood...”

“Yeah...” The brunette admitted, pinching his lips. “I... I’m gonna let you shower.”

“Okay, yeah, sure.” The second-in-command nodded, scratching the nape of his own neck.

“So, see you in a few.” Thomas murmured.

“Okay.” The blonde nodded once more.

It was awkward as the boy walked away from the shower, Newt turning to watch his back. He had said he loved him. Those few words had been enough to set him on fire and his heart had raced so wildly... He wanted to say them back.

“Tommy!”

The brunette looked back at him, Newt allowing himself to drown once more in those cognac eyes. He knew the boy had taken an important place in his heart and mind and had saved him in more than  one   way.  But those three words...  They  were his parents’ last words and sounded like a goodbye to him, which was weird since it didn’t sound at all like that when Thomas had said them to him. Newt opened his mouth and hesitated, biting his bottom lip under the brunette’s curious gaze.

“Keep a place for me near to you for tonight, okay?” He said instead.

Thomas genuinely smiled and nodded before walking away with his piece of t-shirt around his waist. This guy would never force him to do or say anything, Newt knew it: the brunette’s kindness was natural. He sighed heavily and  let his forehead fall  against the  wall of the shower : he should have said those three words.

“Shuck...”

 

_**To be continued...** _


	15. More than friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Borrowers stayed at Teresa to have the time to build back up their Glade, but Newt can't concentrate and it is scaring him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My computer is dying so I must update from my mobile, hope it will be alright.
> 
> EDIT: Betad by amazing FifiB. ^^
> 
> Have fun. 
> 
>  
> 
> ****

The Borrowers had already stayed four days at Teresa's studio flat, working on the shoeboxes. The workshop was almost done: they had made a two floor  structure made out of two shoeboxes glued one on  top of  the other, with a little gap so they had a little balcony and with two ladders inside to go from the bottom to the top in no time. The storage area was also almost done, as  was  the kitchen and the sleeping space. Teresa had stayed with the Borrowers all the four days, only leaving to go to the doctor and coming back calling her college and work to say she was ill and couldn't come. Alby didn't say anything about it and believed that the girl didn't feel well, but a part of him was convinced that she was getting ill out of fear  of going  to college and  seeing  Janson again. Teresa would never admit it, of course, but he was quite sure that it was all  the result  of her mind protecting her.

 

 

Teresa had stomach  aches  and sometimes  headaches  but she was happy helping the little ones. She even made them new hammocks from  one of Alby’s old t-shirts  and some  crochet , having enough time to make quite a few. Sometimes, they took a break to watch a movie or even to go outside with Alby: Minho wanted to see the market Newt had told him about and he had been dumbfounded. One day, when the dark-skinned boy came back from  school and found his friend a sleep along with many of the Borrowers on her pillow while the others were working in the middle of the room, he decided to cook dinner. Minho eventually came to greet him, walking on the counter.

“Hey Alby.”

“Hi Minho.” The boy smiled. “My... You really can climb everywhere, can't you?”

“Of course. I'm a  Borrower .” The Asian smirked,  more than  just a little proud. “How was your day?”

“Boring classes.” Alby shrugged. “Do Borrowers have classes?”

“I guess.” It was Minho's turn to shrug. “We have to learn to read and count, you know. After, we learn on the field.”

“What do you mean by “I guess”? Didn't you have classes?” The Big One asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I mean I don't remember.” The Borrower explained. “I don't remember anything from my past  from  two years or so before meeting Newt. Don't even know how old I am really. But I already knew how to read and count so I just learnt on the field.”

Alby was shocked by Minho's words. The Asian didn't remember anything? Like amnesia? He slowly started to cut vegetables again    though  he wasn’t aware of having stopped, not really sure about what to say, biting his lips, before deciding to apologise .

“Sorry. I didn't mean to  intrude .”

“Oh, don't worry. I don't make a secret of it.” Minho smiled gently. “I have nothing to cry over so I'm pretty lucky. And I have quite a big family with all the Gladers.”

“I see.” Alby had a small smile. “It's great that you guys are all together.”

“Yeah, it is...”

The Asian looked at him with thoughtful eyes, as if wondering if he should say something. But he slowly shook his head and sat on the edge of the counter to keep talking with him, his feet dangling in the air. Alby wondered if he could just sit at the edge of a cliff with the same easiness than the Borrower. Wasn’t this tiny being afraid of anything? Minho finally cut through his  thoughts  and said:

“I wanted to thank you for saving my people... Without Thomas, I guess I would have never trusted a Big One. It was unthinkable. And there, Teresa and you saved us, without looking for anything else in return. So...” He slightly bent his head. “I wanted to say that I'm really grateful.”

“I... I don't know what to say...” The dark-skinned boy shrugged, still preparing the dinner.

“I think that the usual thing is “you're welcome” or some kind of boring thing like that.” Minho smirked.

“Then you're welcome.” Alby laughed softly, shaking his head.

“Actually, I'd like you to do something for us.” The Asian added.

“And what's that?” The cook raised an eyebrow.

“Take care of Teresa.” The Borrower deadpanned. “She did a lot for us. And we can't really do anything in return. So please, do that for us.”

Alby stopped his cooking and turned his gaze to the tiny being. Minho was a born leader  who had a naturally proud posture  with his broad shoulders. But there, he just saw a young man who already had all the responsibilities of a full grown up, someone who didn't remember any real childhood and had to survive from the beginning of his conscious life. Minho could say he was lucky or that he was happy, but Alby could see the exhaustion and the worry he carried, perhaps not even fully aware of it himself. He slowly nodded.

“Sure. I will.”

“Thanks.”

The Asian smiled and got up, ready to go back to his friends and people. Alby's lips were pressed in a thin line and he extended his hand to the Borrower, catching him before he went, making him yelp in surprise .

“Hey! What are you doing?!”

“Calm down, President.” The dark-skinned boy murmured and put the Asian on his shoulder. “Newt is your second-in-command, right? He is trustworthy . Let him deal with the Gladers for now and have some rest.”

Minho looked at him with a startled expression and then laughed slightly, shaking his head. Those Big Ones were strange folks indeed. He simply sat on the giant's shoulder and watched him cook for a while, not even talking so much. Sometimes, Alby would  ask  him to taste the  concoction .

To  their side, the Borrowers were working on the shoeboxes: Gally was mainly the one giving orders as he worked; the builders were used to  working together as a team and didn't hesitate to  demonstrate  how to do the work or to ask  the others to help . Newt had been refused the right to carry heavy things because of his leg, so he was working in  a  team with Chuck, Aris and Jeff  as a way to lighten the load . The blonde knew his garland at the Glade was no more  so  they were wondering if they could borrow another one without  catching  the attention of any Big One. But the second-in-command  was pre-occupied : he had agreed to let Ben, Thomas and Clint to go to the Men Land to see what they could find. A loud sigh caught his attention and he found Aris looking at him in exasperation .

“Newt, if you're not in it,  we’re  never gonna make it.”

“Give him a break!” Chuck exclaimed. “He's worried and has  every  the right to  be !”

“Well, sorry but no, sir.” The young brunette replied, just as exasperated then before, if not more. “He is our second-in-command. He has his own responsibilities.”

“You're a little shit, that's your problem!” The chubby boy snapped angrily.

“Guys, calm down.” Newt groaned, not very pleased  at  being scowled  at  like a child but knowing better than  to yell . “Aris is right. I was distracted, sorry.”

“Newt, it's no problem at all!” Chuck tried to reassure him.

“They went out there and we know nothing of this place. It's normal that you're worried. Just try to focus a bit more...” Jeff smiled gently. “Ben and Thomas are runners and Clint is with them if they get hurt. So don't worry too much.”

“You're the only one among us that went to the Men Land and who knows what we can find there. So try to  concentrate on  here.” Aris sighed deeply, earning a new hard look from Chuck.

Newt looked at the grumpy boy who scowled  at  him so easily despite  his  rank of second-in-command: Aris had never been anything  other  than sarcastic and grumpy but he was smart and had great ideas, without being unfair. He  just had  a communication problem. Newt smiled and waited for Jeff and Chuck to speak together about the Men Land so he could murmur to Aris:

“You could have said: “focus on this so you're not thinking about them”, you know.”

“If you understood it, then it’s good enough.” The boy shrugged, a faint smile on his face.

“Fair enough. Thanks for the advice. But next time you speak to me like that, I'll gladly break  your  arm.” The blonde growled.

Aris turned his gaze away as a smile pulled on his lips. He wasn't a jerk, he just sounded like one because sarcasm was the only way he knew how to talk to people, being ,  in fact ,  pretty shy  himself . But Newt knew how to read him, how to read them all. They worked until the food was ready and served, Alby waking Teresa up so she could eat with them meanwhile Minho came to Newt .

“So, how are you doing so far?”

“Good. We had many ideas for the lights.” The blonde replied, not looking  at  his friend.

“And?” The Asian asked. “ Care  to tell me more?”

“Oh, sorry. Yeah, we thought about garlands, candles, or torches...” The second-in-command enumerated, trying to remember what his group had discussed before.

“You’re distracted.” Minho stated without any reproach in his voice.

Newt sighed at those words and shook his head: he hated how his mind wasn’t able to prioritize his thoughts. It had never happened before: he had always been the rational one, the one who could compartmentalize and  mark  the difference between his feelings and his duties. But right now, he couldn’t.

“They haven’t come back yet.”

“You’re worried.” Minho murmured, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay...”

“No, it’s not.” Newt sighed angrily, frowning and pressing his lips in a thin line. “Ben and Clint are there too, but I’m only thinking about Tommy.”

“Newt...” His friend whispered.

“I mean... How can I be so selfish and irresponsible? So blind?” The blonde passed a hand  through  his hair and  viciously grabbed  many strands. “I’m the second-in-command. I can’t allow myself  to think  that way.”

“Well, stop being an over-dramatic  whinger  and think a bit.” The Asian ’s  grip was tight on his shoulder. “Our home has been destroyed, we were kidnapped, we thought we were gonna die, we came here in a Big One’s house we didn’t know, and we have to  rebuild  our Glade... It’s a lot to take in. And I can’t blame you for being in love.”

“Minho...” He looked up at him.

“Come on... The other night in the shower? You and I know what shagging for fun or  out of  despair is. And it was nothing like that.” The dark-haired boy’s slanting eyes almost disappeared as he smiled. “You fell for Thomas, buddy. And I could have said that much earlier, back in the Glade.”

“How did you see something I wasn’t even aware of?” Newt asked, even if he could figure it out.

“Your eyes when you looked at him.” Minho shrugged. “Your  over-sensitivity . Your recklessness when you ran after him and forbade anyone to come after you... I can keep going if you want.”

“No, you made your point.”

The two boys walked away from the group, heading for Teresa’s bed under which they had found a small hole in the wall to go through  and  get to the rest of the Men Land. The Asian helped his friend to climb on a small box, apparently a Big One’s game or something, and sit on the edge of it just next to him. He didn’t have to speak: they  had known each other for years now, he knew better than to press his best friend and just waited. After a few minutes, he heard him:

“I’m scared, Minho.” Newt admitted in a half-voice. “I’m scared of being in love... I don’t want to change, I don’t want to be unable to concentrate on anything  other  than Tommy and let everyone down because I just can’t control myself. I don’t want to let you work to exhaustion, I don’t want to stop being a good second-in-command, and I don’t want to betray your trust in me.”

“Newt... You’ll be the same Newt I knew and know. You’re just as exhausted as I am, and believe me: I didn’t wanna say it.” He sighed. “Alby is right... We’re all emotionally  drained ... So, just let yourself go for today: worry about Thomas as much as you need and when he is back, just have  a good time. The Glade will be reborn. It doesn’t matter if it is tomorrow or the day after, or even the week after. It will be stupendous. I told you: all I need is my Gladers. We are all  what  we really need.”

“Minho...” The blonde  slightly huffed  a laugh and shook his head. “No wonder I followed you for so long.”

“They are back.” The Asian announced, starting getting up, but stopped in the move by a strong grip on his arm.

“Minho.” Newt called again, more firmly, with his dark eyes looking at him with a kind of fear. “Please... If I change... Even the slightest... Bring me back down. Promise.”

The Asian wished he could just reassure his friend, to tell him that everything was going to be alright. He felt bad about this boy scared of being in love. With a single nod, he got down the box and went to meet the boys: they hadn’t brought much, only a few things that they could use for their Glade, but he greeted and congratulated them before leading them back to their group, leaving Thomas behind as the brunette had spotted the second-in-command. Newt didn’t move from the box, his eyes following Thomas as he came closer, his heart beating fast in his chest. The Greenie gave him a smile and stretched his arms to help himself up the box.

“Were you waiting for us?” He asked. “Sorry if we worried you. We almost get lost and –“

“I was waiting for you.” The blonde whispered, turning his gaze away as Thomas looked at him. “I was worried that you got yourself in trouble again. You’re just an expert in that.”

“Thanks for the trust.” Thomas laughed softly. “But can’t say anything: you’re right about this quality of mine.”

The two boys laughed at that and the atmosphere got a bit lighter. Things were slightly awkward but even with that, they found themselves pretty at ease with one another’s presence. The silence only stayed a minute before some music echoed in the room and the two Borrowers heard Alby groaning something about Teresa not having the right to torture their friends with this kind of music. It was an energetic sound with loud rhythm and the voice of a male singer. Teresa was shouting something to Alby around “my home, my tastes”, making Newt and Thomas  laugh . The brunette shook his head and looked back to his second-in-command .

“Is it about what you asked me in the shower the other day?”

“What? Sex?” The blonde felt his cheeks blushing. “Not really...”

“You didn’t say it like that.” Thomas shrugged with only one shoulder, looking expectantly at his friend. “Do you remember what you said?”

“I...” Newt sighed. “It’s scaring me, Tommy...”

It was visibly not what the other Borrower was expecting as an answer. And the blonde hated the way Thomas’ fragile confidence had vanished in a matter of a second, the way his eyes had dropped... But he needed to say it .

“It scares the shit out of me ’cuz I can’t even think straight or concentrate anymore when you’re not nearby.” He could see the brunette breathing deeply at his side and couldn’t blame him for hearing this the wrong way: it really sounded  like he meant it in a bad way , but he wasn’t done yet. “My mind is a total mess...”

“Newt...” Thomas seemed to have heard enough but the blonde wouldn’t let him go.

“I’m a mess... And you’re not better.” He stated, squeezing his friend’s arm to ask him to stay. “But I... I just thought we could be the greatest definition of a beautiful mess...”

The honey coloured eyes snapped up back at him in disbelief, diving into the blonde’s dark irises as if looking for any trace of joke. A shy smile pulled on the second-in-command’s lips as he stared back at him. His hesitating hand came slowly  to  Thomas’ jaw and cheek and he caressed it slightly as he murmured .

“I remember... “ Make love to me ”.” Newt lightly shook his head. “But I didn’t ask for it, Tommy... I begged.”

The brunette didn’t need more, inhaling deeply as those words sank  through  him and went directly to his groin; he slowly leant in, capturing Newt’s lips in a long and soft kiss. And it was as if everything in the world was right again. They didn’t even  open  their eyes at the end of the kiss, feeling their hot breaths mixing as they deeply inhaled and exhaled, and they kissed once more  with urgency  this time, ravishing each other’s mouth s . Newt’s arms flew to Thomas neck, dragging him  closer  as the brunette ’s  hands grabbed the blonde’s top, his nails rasping against the skin of his sides through the fabric. Newt let out a little moan at this, his own nails scratching at the nape of Thomas neck, driving him insane.

They didn’t stop kissing  the air out of each other’s lungs , even  when  the blonde’s back  hit  the box and his partner  lay  on  top of  him. Instinctively, Newt parted his legs so Thomas could come closer and closer, shivering as their crotches rubbed together. Their bodies were warm, almost burning. Panting, they had to break their kiss, only to allow a moan  to tear  from both their throats as the brunette pressed  his  already half hard member against the blonde’s. Newt closed his eyes, breathing shallowly and pulling Thomas to him, pressing his forehead against his companion’s jaw .

“Make  love to me , Tommy... Make  love to me ...”

Thomas dived  at  Newt’s neck, kissing and  nibbling  his skin as their fingers intertwined above the blonde’s head. The second-in-command’s moans were a delicate melody to his ears, matching his own shaky breath and the pace their hips had adopted, rubbing together. The song lyrics just  came into his head:

 

_Now I see your face again,_

_This time – it’s love_

_We’re more than friends._

And the music echoed again loud and clear in a  rhythmic  thump thump, but despite that the two of them kept going  at  the same pace, kissing and pressing their bodies together, moaning and breathing like  they were running . Eventually, Thomas had to pull back to be able to take Newt’s pants and underwear off, shivering as the fair thighs appeared in front of him but keeping in mind to be careful with his injured leg. His hands parted  the  thin legs as he looked at him in the eyes, starving  for  him. They were so soft under his fingers, goosebumps appearing at his every touch. Without looking away, he leant in, his lips and tongue finding  their way immediately  to the blonde’s hard arousal, tearing a whine from him. Newt’s body arched abruptly as his breath went crazy; he whined once more at the feeling of Thomas burning tongue running on his erection.

"Oh, shuck...!"

His hands went down his own body, one sliding into the dark strands, turning into a fist on his head and pulling his hair, while the other one scratched his own stomach and torso, pulling his top a little bit higher. Another brutal wave of pleasure hit him as Thomas took him in his mouth, making him fling  his head  back  against the box, eyes closed. It was so good, so intoxicating. It was like he never wanted it to stop and  at  the same time he couldn’t stand it anymore and wanted more already, much more. He shivered as Thomas’ mouth abandoned his aroused member, feeling suddenly cold, and panted when feeling him  slightly   scratching  his teeth on his balls and sucking on them.

“Tommy..!” He managed to whisper.

But the brunette didn’t stop there, pushing the blonde’s legs  further apart , he ran his tongue along Newt’s perineum.  It sent shudders through him . He didn’t even know that this part of his anatomy could be so sensitive, but he frowned as Thomas wouldn’t stop going down .

“Tommy...?” He panted. “What are y –”

His sentence died in a loud moan as he felt the burning and wet muscle dancing  at  his entrance, pressing against it. He felt his eyes rolling under the pleasure of such treatment, his entire body jumping and shivering.

“Tommy!” He pleaded.

But Thomas kept going with the licking, cautiously  relaxing  his lover’s hole before  using  his hand, taking his fingers in his mouth and then pushing two of them in him. He liked the way Newt’s body arched at this sudden invasion, his deep voice letting out a strangled moan that made his own erection a bit more painful  from  waiting. He wanted him so badly... But at the same time, he could just watch the boy being ravished by arousal and pleasure, his features gracefully distorted as he whined under his fingers. He stretched him, fingering him just right with his two and then three fingers. Newt felt like lava was running down his veins, sweat covering his entire body. Short-winded, he managed to open his eyes and look at Thomas, his hands grabbing him by his t-shirt as he growled, aroused and despaired at the same time .

“Come into me! Take me! Please, Tommy, please!”

Thomas pulled his fingers out and opened his own pants with shaking hands. His sex was hard and already wet with droplets of  pre-cum  and he almost moaned  at  how sensitive it was when he took it in his hand, his fingers spreading the hot liquid over his member. His free hand went to the blond hair as his elbow met the box just above Newt’s shoulder; his fingers pulling almost viciously on the fair strands. He leant in as he positioned himself and, crushing his mouth against his lover’s, he pushed himself in in once. Newt’s whine died against Thomas lips, his breath suddenly erratic as the sensation of pleasure and pain exploded in him. But then, the brunette stopped, entirely in side  him, and their kiss softened. He kissed him slowly and lovingly as his other hand took his and intertwined their fingers. Newt’s free hand grabbed Thomas’ shoulder, trying to find some stillness to slow his furious heartbeats.

They broke their kiss and opened their eyes shining with emotion and desire. Newt’s lips were trembling, just like his entire being. Hot tears ran along his temples under Thomas’ suddenly concerned gaze, but he whispered in a low steady voice .

“I love you... I love you, Tommy..!”

Thomas’ eyes widened slightly at the confession, touched to no end he could burst into tears. But instead, he smiled tenderly, his love shamelessly all over his face and his eyes, and he leaned in to kiss him, their tongues dancing as he slowly began to move. It wasn’t as wild as their first time but the pace quickly turned fast and hard as their moans and whines melted together. They wouldn’t last long, but it was the most satisfying feeling they ever had, together, just being one.

Newt came first  with  a cry of pleasure, his cum bursting  over  their stomachs and his internal muscles clenching abruptly and being the death of Thomas; the brunette coming inside of his lover in violent spurts  with  a loud grunt. He fell on him, boneless, his mind just as deliciously blank as the blonde’s, their erratic breaths in each other’s ears . Trembling, Newt tightly hugged his lover, boyfriend, better half. He had never felt so finely tired, so good, so alive. He bit his bottom lip, laughing slightly as he pressed his forehead against Thomas’ jaw.

“I love you.” He whispered, just to hear the words back in a shaking sigh.

And the world was just right again.

 

_**To be continued...** _


	16. Thanks for everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They all thought it would all end up with the reconstruction of their Glade. But they never thought it could be that bitter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry for the delay: I wasn't exactly happy with my writing and it took a little longer to write that chapter. Well, and also because I had 2 or 3 concerts and a got boyfriend in the middle, I must admit it. 
> 
> Still, I hope you will like it.  
> EDIT: Betad by the wonderful FifiB!
> 
>  
> 
> ****

Newt woke up in a lovely warm cocoon, the daylight not so aggressive under Teresa's bed. An arm was thrown over his side, the hand at the end of said arm resting lazily against his chest. The blonde didn't move, letting his eyes blink the sleepiness away and enjoying the warmth of the body against his back. Thomas' breathing was slow and even in the crook of his neck, the brunette still asleep. Newt smiled and turned his head as far as he could to see from the corner of his eye the peaceful face of his lover. It was still a strange concept for him to be linked like this to someone. He then noticed the cover over them and froze: he was pretty sure they didn't have it when they fell asleep. He got on his elbow and looked around, spotting the Playmobil shower not far away from them. The idea of having been seen asleep and naked probably by a Big One made him blush furiously and sigh deeply: it was not the end of the world but it was still embarrassing. He untangled himself from Thomas, letting him sleep, and walked to the shower. On his way, he wrinkled his nose at the sensation of dry cum on his stomach and thanked the one who thought about putting the shower there. The water was still a bit warm in the pool so it couldn’t have been there for very long... Going around to get in the shower, he saw a pile of new clothes.

Curious, he approached and had a closer look. Some of them were strangely made and Newt smiled to himself imagining Chuck and Teresa working on that as he recognised his friend's work and the rest seemed a bit clumsy like it was definitely too small for the person working on it. There were grey cargo pants, black skinny ones, a blue t-shirt with long sleeves, a brown tank top and a jean jacket. He smiled and went to take his shower before taking the clothes he preferred: an advantage of waking up first. He took the black skinny pants, the brown tank top and the jean jacket.

It was strange for him to have new clothes in such circumstances but it felt good. He didn't want to wake up Thomas, still affected by the instinct to "sleep when you can", and headed to the centre of the room where many of them were already working on the shoeboxes. It was amazing and Newt really thought that the Glade would look just like a smaller version of Maze. He looked for Minho and found him sitting on Teresa's knee, the girl sitting on the ground and leaning against the wall with her knees up so he was at eye level. She was trying to make a kind of Borrower's size t-shirt under the Asian's amused gaze.

“You don't have to, T.” Minho said, smiling.

“But I like doing it.” She answered, concentrating on her fingers.

“Or trying to do it.” The Borrower smirked.

“Still can teach you how to fly with one finger, Min'.” She grinned, her eyes then catching sight of the blonde. “Oh, Newt, hi. You look so classy!”

“Thanks.” He smiled, limping closer.

“How's your leg?” Teresa put down the t-shirt, concern in her eyes.

“I'm fine.” He shrugged. “Don't worry.”

“Sure you're fine.” Minho had this annoying shit-eating grin. “After the good night you had.”

Newt felt his face warming up in a second and knew he was bright red. Thankfully, Teresa was kinder and just gave the Asian a poke, almost making him fall off of her knee to the blonde's greatest pleasure.

“One day, you're gonna kill me, T!” Minho exclaimed.

“And you will have deserved it!” She smirked before looking back at Newt. “He went first with the cover. I put the shower there after that.”

“That’s definitely comforting me. Thanks.” Newt groaned full of sarcasm, his face and neck still red.

“You were cute.” The dark-haired girl smiled.

“Shut up...!” The blonde whined, putting his hands over his ears.

Minho laughed and embraced his friend, clapping him on the back. He was happy for him and much delighted to see how easily the blonde was embarrassed: it meant Newt cared. He had always kept a close eye on the other Gladers, many of them looking at Newt as if he was a big brother or even a mother sometimes, but he hadn’t opened up as much as his friends would like him too: Minho suspected that the trauma the blonde had experienced on the night they met had never really left him. But now, the young Borrower had his feelings plastered all over his face, a bit uneasy and afraid but visibly happy. And that was all that mattered for the Asian.

They walked toward the working area and Minho showed Newt what they had done during his absence. Their new Glade would be awesome. Newt bit his bottom lip with a smile at the sight of all this: their home was rising from its ashes, better than it had ever been. But his smile suddenly fell and Minho frowned at this:

“Hey... What’s the problem?”

“We are building a new Glade...” He pinched his lips together. “But... Are we gonna build it in the same place? I mean... It’s our place, I know, but... What if that Big One comes back for us?”

The Asian inhaled deeply and sighed. He knew that his second-in-command was right. He had thought about it too, but the Borrowers were not that adventurous: being very small and very dependent on the Big Ones, they usually settle somewhere, not very far away from another Borrowers’ city or village, and stay there. Plus, they had worked so hard to build their Glade, finding a place so perfect, just under a Big One’s building and with a big garden where they could produce their own vegetables (which was already kind of a revolution for the Borrowers).

“I thought I should go with Alby back there... And search for a new place. Maybe there’s one nearby.”

“Yeah...” Newt sighed. “I kind of got used to the Glade... Even with what you said, I felt like I belonged there... Plus if it’s somewhere else, it would be strange to call it the Glade, right?”

“Hm...” Minho nodded slowly. “And we wouldn’t be the Gladers anymore...”

“Hey guys.”

The two Borrowers turned back in unison to meet Gally’s gaze and quite a few others: most of the Gladers were standing there, facing them. Thomas was with them to Newt’s surprise, wearing his new grey cargo pants and blue long sleeved t-shirt. His eyes were soft on the blonde but his face was serious, like the others. The Builders’ keeper stepped forward, arms folded and a scowl on his face, catching the two Borrowers’ attention; he cleared his throat and growled.

“We heard all of that...”

“Gally...” Newt frowned, not quite sure what to expect, his eyes went back to Thomas as if to reassure himself.

“I’m not the one who should talk.” The brunette said and looked to his friends, but many of them nodded. “We want to go back there.”

“It’s our Glade!” Many of them exclaimed.

“It’s our home!” Others agreed.

“Don’t get us wrong.” Gally stepped forward until he was only an inch from his two leaders. “We will follow you no matter what. But we want you to know that we want to go back to the Glade. Look what we’ve created here. Imagine the defences we could build there. To protect us.”

“I wanna go back home...” Chuck said, not very proud to admit it and sound like a child.

“Me too.” Aris deadpanned, only a step from the chubby boy and stubbornly avoiding looking at him as Chuck stared at him in genuine surprise.

Other Gladers joined in expressing the same desire. Thomas went to his lover, approaching carefully as he knew he was asking quite a lot of him. He gently took his hand and murmured:

“I know you’re afraid of him. Of Janson. And I’m really selfish to ask you to go back to the Glade but... It felt like my home too, even if I haven’t stayed long... But if you think you couldn’t bear it, living there with the risk of him coming back... Then be sure that I’ll follow you. Wherever you go.”

Newt looked at him with wide eyes for a few seconds as the words sank in and he finally let out a slight laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. His fingers tightened their grip on his and he smiled, looking at him.

“Are you saying that I’m afraid?”

“I’d never say that.” Thomas gave him a knowing smile.

“You... Are a bloody shank.” The blonde growled. “Hope you know that.”

“I do.” His lover answered with a wider smile, looking fondly at him.

“Huh, guys... Could you please keep that for your private moments in your room?” Minho cut them with a shit-eating grin.

“Those two are so sweet I’m gonna vomit.” Frypan agreed with a laugh.

Both boys turned bright red to the general hilarity. They exchanged a glance and laughed with their friends; they let the moment pass before talking more seriously: they needed to talk about their future. They settled themselves, many of them sitting, others standing: it was a big meeting with all of them. Minho lead the debate, listening to everyone’s opinion, allowing every single Glader to voice his thoughts and fears. After an hour or so of arguing and talking and debating and also lots of swearing, the Borrowers finally agreed that their leader would go with Alby to the Glade's remains and decide if it was safe enough for them to go back there, otherwise, he would look around to see if there was some other similar place.

Teresa observed them all along, fascinated by their way of deciding things: Minho was their leader but the others did not hesitate to offer their opinions, sometimes vividly. But in the end the Asian made a decision with Newt's guidance that was accepted by all of them. She really liked them all, never in her memories had she had such a good time. She got up and went to her fridge: Alby had bought many things and she would have to do something to thank him. She took a pudding, put a bit of it in a plate and brought it to the Borrowers, sitting near them and eating the rest of hers. She really liked to see them all happy to eat everything she gave them: it was apparently the first time they ate pudding and it was priceless. Minho was the first to come back to her and climb on her knee.

“Thanks for that.”

“You're welcome.” She smiled, not looking up from her pudding.

“Just try not to transform them in little balls, okay? Borrowers are supposed to run for their lives 95% of the time, you know.” He smirked.

“I'll be sure you'll be a cute little Asian ball.” Teresa said with an evil grin.

The boy laughed slightly and shook his head. He liked the dark-haired girl: she had a sense of humour that matched his and she was good to them. Not to mention her nice features, her bright smile, her long dark hair and her hypnotic blue eyes... He liked to stay there, sat on her knee and just talk with her but he had a job to do.

“I'm gonna check how the work is going.”

“Yes, boss.” She smiled.

The Borrower grinned at her before going back to his friends and rose an eyebrow at the grin his second-in-command offered him. The blonde shook his head, not saying what was in his mind but the Asian didn't let go: he knew him too damn well.

“Say your shit.”

“You like her.” Newt simply said with a sly smile.

“... Shuck off.” Minho growled, passing by him.

“You asked.” The blonde shrugged, pretty happy with himself.

They heard a few loud and hurried steps approaching before the front door opened, Alby appearing short-winded as if he had been running. Everyone looked at him with wide eyes, wondering what could have made him run; Teresa got up instantly and rushed to him.

“Alby! What is it? Did something happen?”

“He...” Her friend tried to breathe. “He's gone, T... The flat... The flat is being sold. They are gone.”

Teresa looked at him in bewilderment before catching him in a bone crushing hug. Her heart was racing in her chest: did Mrs Paige get scared she would really go to the police? Did they move so he could go to a psychiatric hospital? Or should she worry that he would reappear one day? She had so many questions rushing through her mind but couldn’t ask them out loud. Alby hugged her back and murmured, breathing more easily:

“They're gone. You can go back to school, T... He won't be there anymore.”

“I... I wasn't avoiding him!” She shook her head. “I'm just ill.” 

“If you say so.” Alby let her go and looked to the Borrowers. “The Glade is clean.”

****

The Borrowers climbed out of Teresa's bag, their eyes looking everywhere. There was nothing left of the desolate scene they had witnessed a few days ago. Alby had explained that he had put everything in a shopping bag in his grandmother's apartment so nothing was left unattended and they could just go there if they wanted to look for something. Thomas offered his arms and helped Newt to get out of the bag, not wanting him to land on his bad leg, which made his lover smile.

“Do I look like a bloody princess to you?”

Thomas smiled at the memory, remembering the teasing blonde he would never have imagined to have as a boyfriend one day. They walked around the empty Glade, trying to visualise their home as it used to be. Many of them just let the tears come, unashamed. Newt went to their Memory Wall, where all the Gladers' names were carved, and he let his fingers run over the irregularities of the wall. He could feel Thomas' presence at his back and felt like speaking as he pressed his forehead against the cold stone.

“Thankfully, there's no bloody name to cross.” His voice was just a murmur.

“We did this. Together.” Thomas came closer, his torso appreciating the heat of Newt's back, his hand sliding to cover the blonde's own.

“If it wasn't for you, Chuck and your parents... We'd be all dead by now.” His lover whispered, turning his head so he could see the brunette. “Thanks.”

“Don't thank me for that, you shank.” Thomas sighed.

Newt smiled slightly at the word and just shrugged, letting their fingertips brush against the names. Eventually, they came to Thomas' name, and the brunette smiled, his other arm gently embracing the blonde's waist.

“Thank you for carving my name there. It was you, right?”

“Maybe...” But the smirk on Newt's face spoke for him.

“It made me realise that I was a Glader. That I was part of this.” The runner continued, not acknowledging the smirk. “It gave me the strength of will I needed.”

The blonde looked at him over his shoulder, his lips slightly parted. A small smile tried to pull shyly on his lips and he finally let out a little expired laugh, shaking his head: that sounded so cheesy and yet it hit him in the guts. He turned, leaning his back against the wall, his eyes drowning in the brunette's as he spoke with amusement in his voice.

“Are you trying to flirt with me?”

“I don't know...” Thomas smiled, leaning in. “Should I be?”

Their lips brushed and finally pressed gently together. It was soft and tender, just for the sake of kissing and it felt good and right. Or rather, it felt like that until they heard their friends cooing not so far away. They laughed and blushed slightly and looked at them as Minho grinned.

“Hey, lovebirds, why don't you guys give us a hand to settle your nest?”

It didn't help the cooing part. Both boys sighed and walked to their friends to help with the Glade’s rebirth. Teresa and Alby helped as much as they could, sliding the shoeboxes one by one inside. The most difficult part was to fix down the floors they had built (the window was not large enough to slide more than one shoebox at a time), putting some glue on the shoeboxes and trying not to glue the Borrowers with it. They had been working for almost one hour when they heard a feminine old voice at the entrance of the alley.

“What are you two doing?”

“Grandma!” Alby jolted up. “We... Huh...”

“Hello, mam. We are working on a school project.” Teresa supplied with a smile.

“In the garden?” The old women raised her eyebrows, visibly amused. “And what school project is that?”

“It's, huh... ‘What would an elves’ home look like to you?’” The girl improvised.

“Elves?” The grandmother laughed and looked at her grandson. “Is that a title the teacher gave you? Or did you choose the subject?”

“I chose.” Alby replied.

“I see...” She smiled. “Call them the Wee Ones. They don't like to be called elves. They are pretty proud, you know... Have a good day, children, and don't catch a cold.”

The old woman left for the building, walking slowly as her age didn't allow her to go fast. Teresa and Alby looked at each other, waiting for sound of the door closing before they spoke.

“She knows about them?” The dark-haired girl asked, startled.

“I don't know...” Alby shook slightly his head. “She always told me stories about the little people. But I thought she talked about the fair folk... Not Borrowers.”

“Do you know her, guys?” Teresa turned to question the Gladers but only found the empty Glade. “What the... Guys?”

The Borrowers were nowhere to be seen. They had vanished as soon as they had heard another voice. It was like they had never existed. Teresa and Alby exchanged a glance, worried, and called again. A few seconds passed before Minho showed up, emerging from the shadows, he was tensed and the cloves in his hands spoke volumes about his sudden anxiety. Alby spoke first:

“It was my grandma. But she's gone now, it's okay.”

“I know.” The Asian stared at them, visibly thoughtful. “Look, I know it's gonna sound really ungrateful, and believe me, we are not, but... You two here catch too much attention. It was the granny there but it could have been someone else... And I can't risk the lives of my kind anymore.”

“You want us to leave?” Teresa asked, feeling like a rock had hit her.

“You are Big Ones.” Minho added. “You're easily seen. It's already a major risk we are taking by coming back here. I can't afford to take any more risks by letting you guys stand in front of our Glade for hours. It would be suicide for us.”

The dark-haired girl stared at him with her icy blue eyes, her jaw clenching visibly. She just nodded various times before putting the shoeboxes in the Glade and getting up. She ignored Alby calling her name and left without another word. Minho watched her leave, not trying to call after her or anything else: he knew how his words had sounded. His eyes met Alby's nonetheless, not fleeing: the Asian had always taken responsibility of his words. The dark-skinned boy looked back at him and sighed heavily.

“You guys take care, okay?”

“Thanks, Big One, you too. Thank you for everything.” The Borrower said, loud and proud.

It sounded like a goodbye. Definitely. Alby nodded slightly and sighed again, not feeling ready to leave yet. He pressed his lips together and murmured:

“Come up there when you feel like it.”

“We will.” Minho said.

“Okay...” He was ready to go, already lifting himself.

“Alby?” The Asian called.

“Yeah?”

“Our request still stands: take good care of her. For us.” The Borrower wasn't letting his eyes drop. “Take care of you too.”

Alby nodded and got up, leaving the Borrowers. The Gladers got out of the shadows, approaching their leader. It was a strange atmosphere as none of them liked the situation but they all knew it was necessary. Thomas's grip tightened on Newt's hand.

“Tell me we had to do that.”

“Tommy...” The blonde whispered.

“They saved us. They helped us.” The brunette shook his head. “I just feel like a bastard.”

Newt sighed and looked to their leader and friend: the decision wasn't an easy one, but Minho had always done what he thought was right, no matter how awful he looked to the others or how much it hurt him. Right now, the Asian wore a mask of confidence, but Newt knew he was broken inside.

“Go help the others, Tommy... I need to talk to Minho.”

“'Kay... See you later.” Thomas agreed, letting his fingers caress his lovers' hand as he left, in a gesture of comfort.

Newt watched him for a second with a faint smile and then walked to his best friend. Minho hadn't moved, staring at the garden as if the Big Ones were still there. The blonde came closer and finally stopped by his side. There wasn’t much to say, but he knew the Asian needed to think out loud.

“You liked her.”

“What… Again, Newt?” Minho sighed deeply.

“Don’t lie to me, Minho.” The second-in-command shrugged, looking outside. “You really liked her.”

“And what?” The dark-haired boy shook his head. “She’s a Big One. I’m not. End of the story.”

“Minho...”

“Borrowers and Big Ones should never meet.” 

Newt’s eyes widened at this sentence but he didn’t push it, knowing his friend well enough to see how the boy was struggling in his head. He simply nodded and went to help the others in reconstructing their Glade. It took them several hours and the day was gone when they finished. But even with the glorious home they had now, the Borrowers weren’t really in the mood for partying and celebrating. Especially when the only thing they had to eat was a sandwich that Teresa had prepared for them, but they tried: Frypan and Jeff were always the first ones to sing and use anything as percussion instruments; eventually, the others followed and a kind of a party took place.

They built up a campfire and the mood lightened. The smiles came back, along with the jokes and the laughs. But even with the nice atmosphere coming back, Newt couldn’t just not see the silhouette near the window: Minho stayed there, sitting at the edge of their Glade, facing the garden. Thomas gently brushed the blonde’s shoulder.

“He will be fine.”

“I know.”

“We will help him be fine.”

“I know.”

They would find something. They had to.

 

**_To be continued..._ **


	17. Greed and envy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They have been away for one month... One entire month. But why...  
> Alby would never had known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit late but better than the last delay! ^^  
> First of all, thank you for those who still reading this story and then for those who might be a little sensitive, just remember that I love happy endings. I promise!
> 
> EDIT: Betad since the 30/03! I'm so ashamed, sorry!
> 
> ****

Alby came back from his classes and stopped at the front gate of the building, his eyes on the alley at the building’s side. It had been a month. An entire month without any news from the Borrowers. He had felt a lot of things lately: upset, betrayed, lost, left behind... But now, he just felt tired and resigned. He wouldn’t go in the alley: he had told himself that he wouldn’t risk the lives of his friends again. But sometimes, he wondered if he hadn’t imagined all of it. Little people running through the walls? Taking what they needed to live? It almost sounded like a joke. If they really existed, why had nobody ever heard of them? Thankfully, Teresa was there to remind him that they had been through that together, that they weren’t going bonkers.

Teresa was the most upset of the two of them: she had cried numerous times during the first week (even if she wouldn’t admit it in front of Alby). Now, she was much calmer but the topic of the Borrowers just made her sad and nostalgic and even angry sometimes. She had really grown fond of them, just like Alby had, and now they just felt a terrible loss. They had become closer since then, only being able to speak about the little ones together, just to remind each other that they hadn’t dreamt it all. Alby sighed deeply and entered the building, climbing the stairs two at a time and going in his grandmother’s flat.

“I’m home!” He called.

Putting his jacket on the coat rack, he spotted the day’s mail, one letter visibly addressed to him. He frowned and took the rectangle of paper: the writing was neat and beautiful... It was his mother’s. He frowned a bit more and opened it: why would his mother send him a letter instead of an e-mail? There was a card and a letter in the envelope, visibly from some sunny place. She was telling him about their place, the wonderful weather and the nice people. He mentally shrugged and continued his reading by opening the letter; and for a few seconds, he might have forgotten to breath: his parents were wondering if his grandmother wouldn’t be better in a nursing home since she was getting pretty old and that Alby wasn’t home 24/7. She added that he could join them if he liked or just stay there but in this case in a much smaller apartment; his grandmother’s flat was apparently quite expensive for them.

“What the...?”

He closed his eyes and leant against the wall, inhaling deeply. He had to stay calm. Calm and focused. It was true that he wasn’t in there all the time, but his grandmother was not disabled, or in need of any kind: she was pretty old but was still independent and lively. She wouldn’t be able to bear a nursing home. He was sure of it. But for the money? He would need a job to get money... But would he find one so he could afford this flat? If not, would his grandmother accept moving? He wasn’t optimistic about that: she had lived here for decades with her late husband. There was no way she would accept leaving. He pressed his hands on his eyes and breathed deeply various times before opening his eyes and straightening up, he headed to his grandmother’s room.

The door was closed. But he could hear a muffled sound. Probably the television. He shook his head slightly and went to his room. This place had become so familiar, he couldn't really imagine leaving it for another one. He took out his cell phone and called Teresa. She was working so he couldn't expect her to pick it up; he left a message and stayed in the room to read the letter again and again. His parents weren't really the kind of people to ask if everything was alright: they assumed that at his age, he was totally able to live with the money they put in his bank account. He sighed and went back to the kitchen to cook diner for his grandmother as she would sometimes forget to eat.

He cooked a chili con carne, his grandmother's favourite, and put it on a tray to take it to her room: it was her TV night. She liked to stay in front of the television, watching some TV show he wasn't really aware of, except for the few times she mentioned it to him, wanting to share it with her grandson. He opened the door:

“Hey grandma, I cooked you –“ But he cut himself in mid-sentence.

His grandmother looked up at him with a bright smile, an ancient but precious doll house at the side of the bed. It was opened and her old and fragile fingers were preparing a little doll bed, parental suite apparently.

“Alby.” She smiled. “Come and sit, my boy.”

“Grandma... What are you doing?” He cautiously asked, approaching with the tray.

“They come here sometimes, you know.” She said fondly, continuing preparing the bed. “The wee ones. They don't want to be seen. But an old lady like me knows her house by heart.”

“Grandma...” Alby sighed. “How do you know? Maybe it's just a mouse you heard.”

“Oh, I didn't hear them.” She laughed almost childishly. “But they slept in that bed. I know it.”

“Have you seen one of them?” Her grandson asked.

“No, dear. The wee ones don't want to be seen, I told you.” She put the bed back in the doll house.

“So... How can you be so sure of their existence?” Alby wondered, frowning.

“Oh, I just believe.” Her old lips offered him a kind smile. “And you should too, my boy. Because they do believe in you. Sometimes, they take what they need... If you lost something, it might be the wee ones.”

The dark-skinned boy just kept watching his grandmother: the old woman had no doubt about the Borrowers' existence, even if she hadn't seen any of them. Alby wished she could see them, talk to them as he did. Because he knew from experience that his grandmother had no problem at all with talking about them and that was one of the reasons people thought she was losing it. And she knew that, he was sure of it. How much could it hurt her? To know that people thought she was getting old and crazy? He sighed and sat on the bed to give her the tray with her dinner.

“Thank you, my boy.”

“Grandma... What... What if I told you that you're right?” He murmured.

“About what?” She gave him her usual smile, all tenderness and softness.

“About the little people.” He said. “What if I told you that they really exist and that you are not losing your mind as many people think?”

The smile on the old lady's face dropped a bit as she looked at him, her eyes coloured in grey from years of living sliding from one of his to another. Her lips shook lightly in a sad smile as she dropped her eyes to the food.

“Don't say that, Alby.”

“What? Why?” He frowned, not understanding her reaction.

“It's one thing to hear that from the mouth of an old woman almost at the end of the track, but hearing it from a young and solid man like you...” She shook her head slightly. “It is a bomb in your mouth, my boy. I don't want people to look at you like you are a liar or out of your mind.”

“Grandma...” He tried.

“And never doubt the power of words.” She continued. “Lives could depend on it. Theirs especially. The wee ones are very fragile compared to people like us.”

“But I-“

“I believe in them. No matter how crazy people think I am. I am allowed to: I'm an old woman. But you...” She looked at him right in the eyes, a strength he had never been aware of shining in her dark, grey irises. “Never mention them to anyone.”

Alby clenched his jaw, wanting to cry as he witnessed now the strength of will and also the hurt in his grandmother. She didn't say it but she might have begun to think that people were right, that she was really losing her mind. Maybe she thought he had said those words just to comfort her. Maybe she was afraid he was pitying her...

He couldn't let it go. He kissed his grandmother and ran to the entrance, almost tearing off the coat rack as he took his jacket. He ran down the stairs and stopped in the garden just to look around; seeing nobody, he went into the alley at the side of the building. He kneeled in front of the window and froze: the window was closed. How could it be? Were they gone? His heart were pounding heavily in his chest as he knocked. The seconds seemed like hours before he knocked again.

“Come on... Be there, please.” He murmured before looking around again checking nobody could see him and calling a little louder. “Minho, are you there? Newt? Thomas?”

The silence was deafening. He clenched his jaw as he felt his heart sinking and turned to sit against the wall. They were gone... They had disappeared without even a goodbye. He breathed deeply to calm himself, feeling like someone had torn a piece of him. Would Thomas leave without a word? After all they had gone through? He leant his head against the wall behind him and sighed deeply, closing his eyes. How would he tell Teresa about this? She was already pretty upset...

“Big One.” A voice called not so far away, making Alby jump.

It was Minho. The Borrower was now standing near the closed window, he hadn't changed in the slightest: his expression was always very serious, like some kid who had grown up too quickly. He approached as the dark- skinned boy straightened, only whispering:

“I thought you were gone...”

“We almost were...” The Asian shrugged. “Why are you here?”

“You didn't come even once in a month.” Alby couldn't hide the anger in his voice.

“We are Borrowers. We owe you nothing.” Minho deadpanned.

Nothing? Was that some kind of wee ones' sense of humour? He looked at the Glade's leader in disbelief, shaking his head. This must be some kind of stupid joke. He couldn't imagine any other explanation. He slowly turned to face the Borrower, containing as much of his fury as he could, digging his nails into his palm, using the pain to stay focused; his voice wasn't more than a growl.

“You owe us nothing...?”

Judging by the slight discomfort that passed on Minho's features, it was clear he knew he hadn't been quite smart there, pressing his lips together in a thin line. His hands had slowly slid south, to his waist where Alby could see the two cloves the Asian used as weapons. The dark-skinned boy stared at the tiny being in confusion and shook his head.

“When did we become enemies, Minho?”

“... We didn’t.” The young leader said. “But I never thought you would come back after what I said... Why did you come back?”

“Why haven't you come during this month? Even once?” Alby asked, reproach in his voice. “We helped you.”

“Our worlds should have never met.” Minho sighed. “I don't wanna cross any more names off our wall. And I cannot let my people get used to depending on the friendship of a Big One. Especially not now.”

“What do you mean not now?” Alby frowned.

“The news of you rescuing us a month ago is still spreading.” The Asian murmured. “And what do you think our friendship could represent for other Borrowers?”

“I don't know... What?” The dark-skinned boy was lost.

“Power. Treasures. Wealth.” The Glade's leader's face was hard. “Borrowers had never been children of greed since all we have is supposed to be borrowed. But what if a bunch of teenagers get to befriend a Big One? Maybe this Big One could give them things, presents? Things they didn't have to risk their lives for.”

Alby didn't like what he was hearing at all: he had a bad feeling about all this. And the expression of the wee one didn't help calm his nerves at all: taking a better look at him, Minho looked tired, exhausted even, but also angry and constantly guarded. The Big One swallowed slowly and passed his tongue over his lips, trying to collect his thoughts.

“You mean...”

****

“A war?!” Teresa gasped, straightening on her bed.

Her friend had come to her apartment as soon as she had finished her shift at the veterinarian clinic. When she spotted him at her door, she knew something bad had occurred, but she never imagined she would hear this kind of news. The dark-skinned boy had sat on her bed, next to her and was nervously intertwining his fingers.

“That's what he told me.” Alby sighed with a dark expression.

“But why?” She asked vehemently. “We haven't seen them in a month! I was almost thinking I had imagined all this!”

“The other Borrowers think we give them presents. That they don't have to borrow anymore to live.” His friend shrugged. “They think now that they are kinda rich.”

“But they can tell them that we didn't give them anything!” Teresa exclaimed.

“The problem is that we have.” Alby pinched his lips together.

“What?” The dark-haired girl frowned.

“The Glade.” The boy deadpanned. “How could the others believe that we don't give them anything when they see the Glade? Borrowers would never be able to build something like that in such a short time.”

“Oh my God...” Teresa whispered.

“We did that to them, T...” Alby's eyes shined with tears. “We turned Borrowers against Borrowers by teaching them naked greed and envy.”

********

Newt was panting, his arms and face covered in dirt. He wrinkled his nose but didn't made a big deal of it: he had long forgotten what it was like to have a hot shower. Leaning against the wall, he looked over his shoulder to try to see the Glade. Nothing was moving but he could hear voices...

The day after Alby had come and talked to Minho, an important group of Borrowers had come in the wee hours and taken them by surprise. Newt and a few of them had been able to flee in the darkness of the passage leading to the Men Land. They didn't have much but they were free. It was the most important thing right now. In the darkness, they couldn't see much but he whispered loud enough for the little group to hear it.

“Alright. Tell me your name, guys, so I know who's here.”

“Aris.”

“Gally.”

“Clint.”

“Fry.”

And then the silence. Newt breathed in deeply and looked back to the entrance of the passage: they were so few in numbers compared to those who attacked them. Never in a Borrower's memory had they turn against their own kind. It was like a nightmare. Minho had stayed behind to fight and earn them enough time to flee... Newt didn't even know if he was alright; but as a Borrower, he couldn't imagine him dead. They died in the Men Land, not against their own, it was insane. But things had changed.

He could hear his own heart racing in his chest, praying he was the only one to hear it, cold sweat running down his burning muscles. He forced himself to breathe deeply and slowly to calm down and then turn in the direction of the others, not really knowing where exactly his friends were.

“Does anyone know if runners were in the Men Land?” He asked but not very optimistic about the answer.

“It was very early...” Aris sighed, defeated.

“Yeah but I think Ben was.” Gally murmured. “I asked him if he could get me some stuff and I think he went during the night...”

“Right, so he could come back soon.” Newt nodded, feeling a bit better knowing there was one of them outside. “We must protect the Upgo until he's back.”

The others agreed and went a bit deeper into the passage, hoping that the rats would have the good sense to be far away. Newt closed the walk, a clove in his hand; his thoughts were left behind though: Thomas was in the Glade with Minho. They were protecting each other. He didn't have to worry, right? They progressed slowly through the passage, not daring to light up a candle, they couldn't risk being found, not now. Arriving at the Upgo, they sat and waited for any sign of Ben: the runner could be anywhere in the building. Aris was the first one to break the silence, only whispering:

“Maybe we should go to that Big One. Alby, right?”

“For what? Minho wasn’t exactly kind last time they spoke, remember?” Gally growled.

“Yeah, and I still think it was absurd to tell the Big One what was happening and keep pushing him away. But at least, in his flat, we wouldn't risk being captured too.” Clint objected.

“And he doesn't need to know we are at his place.” Aris added. “Newt, you know the place. Isn't there somewhere we can hide?”

“There is.” The blonde nodded. “There's a hole in the wall of the living room. Don't know if we can all fit, though.”

“Then we will just have to stay on at the entrance of the flat. But it’s near the kitchen so we won’t have problems getting food.” Frypan shrugged.

“All right.” Newt conceded. “But we have to wait for Ben. We cannot risk missing him and letting him go back to the Glade.”

They all agreed and installed themselves for a long wait. Newt could now be alone with his thoughts: how were the things in the Glade? Was everyone all right? Or would they have to cross names off the wall? That’s if they ever got near that wall again.

 

**_To be continued..._ **


	18. Beaten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gladers are now prisoners. But not all of them, so there's still a bit of hope, right? But who is that man looking for one of them in particular?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I needed a new character that I didn't find in The Maze Runner series... Or better say that it's when I saw him that I had the idea of the character so please welcome our guest in this story: Daryl Dixon from The Walking Dead series! But I didn't plan a crossover so it will be the exception. ^^ I just have a big crush for Norman Reedus.
> 
> EDIT: Also betad since the 30/03! I'm so sorry for the delay!! T_T
> 
> ****

Thomas frowned as he was regaining consciousness little by little. His head hurt, his neck too... His entire body did in fact. He slowly opened his eyes and looked around: he had been laying on his side, head against the ground, hands attached together behind his back. He remembered now: they were prisoners. They had fought but had been outnumbered. He could remember Minho and he fighting together, side by side. He sat and looked around, searching for his leader and friend. Minho was sat on a chair, hands behind his back, facing them; there was blood on his chin and shirt and a dark shade ran under his right eye. He seemed out cold. Thomas bit his lip and tried to check his other friends when feet stopped in front of him.

It was an adult. Or at least was he more or less two decades older than Thomas. He had long brown hair and three or four days of stubble the same colour. He looked like life hadn't be kind to him: his grey-blue eyes were fierce and cold and his jaw was clenched most of the time; he wore a shirt and a jacket, both without sleeves displaying his muscular arms (no doubt he could break Thomas' neck with only one), jeans and boots. He was very good at using a stick, being the one who knocked Thomas out cold in seconds. He squatted in front of him and spoke very low, almost a murmur.

“Kid. If you're smart, you won't make too much noise.”

“Don't really have a choice, do I?” Thomas groaned but kept his voice low too nonetheless.

“There's someone called Newt here, right?” The man asked.

Thomas' eyes widened slightly but he managed to hide his surprise almost instantly: who was that man and how could he know about Newt? And, most of all, what did he want to do with him? Not taking much time to think, he simply shook his head and answered.

“I'm new here. I don't know everyone's name yet.”

The man didn't react at first but then, a small smirk pulled on the corner of his lips, slightly softening his features but still not reassuring the boy.

“You are a bloody smart kid, aren't you? Saying “no” directly would have been too suspicious...” He looked briefly around and then back at him. “Your name is Thomas.”

“Doesn't sound like a question.” The brunette smirked.

“Because it's not.” The man replied without humour before indicating Minho. “I heard your friend calling you that.”

Thomas looked at Minho for a second, wondering how much longer the Asian would be unconscious, and then he looked back to the man. There was something strange about him. Well, not strange but there was a detail that was screaming for Thomas' attention... The brunette just couldn't figure out what. The man looked up and stood up before stepping away: the chatter of the others Borrowers was getting louder as they approached and Thomas chose to close his eyes. Now was not the moment to try to talk sense into these guys, he was not in the best position.

****

Ben appeared after two long hours, totally surprised to find his friends at the basement. When they told him what had happened, he sighed angrily and groaned:

“They had tried something a few days ago... It was a matter of time.”

“Yeah...” Newt shrugged off the subject and murmured. “Let's get the hell out of here, I'm going bonkers.”

The others agreed and they had to split into two groups to take the Upgo. Newt, Gally and Ben waited together while Clint, Aris and Frypan went first. Never had the sound of the Upgo seemed so loud to them. Their hearts beating fast as they waited for the machine to go and come back, cloves and dessert fork in hand. Noises came from the passage as the Upgo came back down: their assailants had heard them and were running for them. Newt and Ben didn't really have time to think as they jumped in the Upgo and saw their friend activating the mechanism.

“Gally, what are you doing?!”

“Just go!” The Builder exclaimed.

He just had time to turn back and face the other Borrowers coming with his dessert fork. They had lit candles, the shadows making their numbers hugely threatening. The Upgo went up suddenly and Newt felt like his heart had stopped beating.

“GALLY!!”

But the now fighting boy disappeared in the darkness as their elevator went up. His two friends were panting, looking down in the dark where they could only see the lights of the candles diminishing as they went higher. Never had they left someone behind like that. Burning tears ran down their cheeks as they went higher and higher and when they were greeted by the others, the painful question was like a punch in the guts as they pulled them out of the Upgo.

“Newt, Ben... Gally? Hey, where's Gally?”

“He stayed behind...” Newt whispered, his voice not daring to come out any louder. “They came for us and he stayed behind.”

The blonde was grateful that the darkness hid his friends' faces because right now he couldn't face them. He was the second-in-command, he was the one supposed to stay behind to save his friends. Not the opposite. The others wouldn't blame him of course, but the guilt was there, upon his heart.

Suddenly, a noise caught their attention and pulled them out of their sadness: the Upgo was going back down, returning to the basement. They had stopped breathing and Frypan was the first one to break their silence:

“It's going down...”

“They're coming.” Newt said in a panicked voice. “Move! Move! MOVE!”

Their little group just jumped to their feet and ran to the hole in the wall leading to the kitchen. They barely stopped to see if there was someone following and ran on the counter in the direction of the devices to their side and went down the wires to get to the ground. Aris had never gone to the Men Land and neither had Frypan but the fear made them just as fast as their companions.

Ben and Clint helped Frypan to get on the ground, Newt catching their youngest as Aris let go of the wire. They didn't wait to find out if their assailants had got to the entrance of the kitchen and turned to the living room before freezing: Winston was there, softly landing on his four velvet paws, his golden eyes locked on them.

“Bloody Griever!” Newt growled before pulling Aris. “Follow me!”

They all broke into a run down the corridor of the flat, not daring to look behind, and threw themselves under a door. Frypan had bigger shoulders and his friends pulled him together from under the door. Just in time to avoid a fury paw.

“What the fuck, man?!” The cook let out to no one in particular.

“Say hi to our friend the Griever.” Newt groaned, trying to normalize his breathing.

“What was that?!” Aris whined, his eyes wide in terror. “It's enormous!”

“That, my friend, was a cat.” Ben smiled, just as short-winded as the others.

“Why did you bring us here?” Clint asked to their second-in-command.

“There's a doll house in here. We can hide and defend ourselves for a bit. Just to work out what we can do and eventually talk to Alby.” Newt explained.

“Wait, how do you know there's a doll house in there?” Aris asked.

“I came here pretty often.” The blond admitted, blushing slightly.

“And did Thomas like the doll house?” Ben teased, smiling as he saw his friend getting redder.

“You guys came here “pretty often” with that monster outside... You runners are shucking insane.” Aris shook his head.

“Well, I guess that at some point, the need to be alone is more important.” Frypan smirked.

“Yeah, so you don't disturb your neighbours in the night.” Clint added with a grin, remembering the first night back in the Glade.

“Could we please stop talking about my sex life and move?” Newt growled, his pale skin now bright red.

Aris, who hadn't totally got it at the beginning, also turned a bright red colour, to the great amusement of their three friends. Their little moment of joy ended abruptly with a scream on the other side, coming to them.

“Isn't that Gally's voice?” Frypan frowned before looking under the door.

And Gally appeared, rushing under the door as if he was running for his life, along with another Borrower, taller and bulkier. The Builder called out to his friends for help and the boys obeyed immediately, even for this stranger they didn't know but in the worst case, they were six and he was alone. They just had pulled the two of them out when the fury paw came back under the door, trying to catch them.

“Shucking cat!” Gally exclaimed. “He nearly ate us alive!”

“How come you're here and fine?” Clint asked.

“And who's that bloody one?” Newt added, designating the man that was showing them his back and brushing the dust out of his jeans.

“I think you know me well enough, young lad.” The man said as he turned to face them, his grey-blue piercing eyes locking on his.

The second-in-command frowned and took a second look at the stranger, the other Borrowers exchanging questioning glances. The man was a warrior, a survivor, judging by his way of standing, the scars on his arms and on the side of his face; his three day stubble and his long brown hair told that elegance was not at the top of his list of priorities. But even if life had changed him, his personality and even his accent, it rang a bell in the blonde's mind. Newt's eyes widened in disbelief as his mouth managed to speak the incredible idea that had come through his mind.

“Un-uncle Daryl?”

The man smiled slightly and nodded. Newt was dumbfounded: his uncle had fallen from the bag in the airport of London, how could he be standing there? But if a burst of incredulous joy had been born in his chest, it just died almost instantly as the boy frowned, his eyes giving him the hardest look he could possibly give.

“And what are you doing with those bloody bastards that attacked us?”

His voice had been a deep growl, his inner second-in-command snarling like a ferocious wolf just waiting to attack. The others just came behind him, facing the man. Daryl looked back at the boy, visibly not impressed at all, he replied very calmly.

“We didn't know they wanted to attack until it happened. Well, I suspected a bit before but it was already too late.”

“What were you doing with them in the first place? And who is “we”?” Newt insisted.

“It was a coincidence, really.” His uncle replied. “I heard about the Glade when walking in the sewers. And I heard your name. So I joined to find you, along with a girl. From the airport. She’s about your age.”

“This story is insane.” Gally deadpanned.

“For once, I agree with you, man.” Frypan nodded, imitated by Clint.

“You heard them talking about the Glade... And you didn’t know they were going to attack us? Going to attack my friends?! My family?!” The blond began to speak louder and louder.

“Newt...” Daryl shook his head. “Listen...”

“No! You listen!” Newt exploded, eyes shining with tears. “I’ve seen them die! Mom and dad! They died! In front of me! And I couldn’t do anything! And if it wasn’t for Minho and the others, I’d be dead too! You hear me?! DEAD!”

Gally, Frypan, Ben, Clint and Aris were dumbfounded. Never had their friend told them about his past. And clearly, the uncle wasn’t expecting that neither, even if his reaction was less obvious than theirs. But it didn’t stop the blonde from continuing as he let the words pour out of his mouth like a river.

“And now... My friends have a bloody shucking problem! And I don’t even know if they are alive! Neither my bloody boyfriend!”

“You have a boyfriend?” Daryl asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, his name is Thomas.” Frypan smiled brightly.

“First time you called him boyfriend, though.” Clint added.

“Guys... I was serious there!” The blonde shook his head, exasperated: he just couldn’t look serious with those dorks around.

“He’s fine.” The man cut in. “I saw him earlier.”

“Is he?” Newt forgot about all the rest, his heart skipping a beat.

“He is.” Daryl nodded. “Promise.”

“And Minho?” Aris asked. “How is Minho?”

“He was trying to look like he was unconscious when I left.” The man grumbled.

“And the others? Is everyone all right?” Newt wanted to know.

“For now, yes.” His uncle answered. “But if you want to do something, you should do it quickly. And I will help.”

“Why would you help us now? You helped them before.” Aris frowned.

Daryl looked up at him and for a second the young boy wondered if he had asked the last question of his life. But a small smile came over the man’s lips, like he wasn’t really used to smiling anymore, and he looked to their second-in-command, murmuring:

“Because I’ll do anything for my bloody favourite nephew. Especially now I found him.”

A smile fought its way to Newt’s lips and he suddenly felt the warm sensation of joy in his chest. They would have to speak a lot, but now wasn’t the right time: Minho, Thomas, Chuck, Zart, Jeff and all the others waited for them, they couldn’t wait anymore. He smirked.

“I’m your only nephew.”

A noise suddenly caught their attention and they looked up to the opening door. A bright smile came across Newt’s face as he caught his uncle’s arm, not wanting him to run away. After all, those two were their friends.

“Uncle Daryl…? Let me introduce you to our Big Ones.”

****

“Hey... What’s your name?”

Chuck looked up to the girl talking to him. She had reddish blonde hair that fell almost to her waist in soft curls and big brown eyes with infinite eyelashes. She was very pretty, with cute and thin features, and would seem very fragile if it wasn’t for the strength of will shining in her eyes. The boy hesitated and whispered back his name. She slowly nodded and looked around to see if anyone was coming.

“Okay. I want you to listen to me carefully, Chuck. I’m gonna untie you. You’re small, you won’t be seen.”

“Me?” Chuck asked, startled.

“Yes, you. I’m gonna untie you and you’re gonna run to this city nearby. Maze. Go there and ask for help. Tell them everything. Tell them that those who said that they wanted to be part of the Glade were liars and that you have been attacked.” She instructed him. “You can do this, right?”

The chubby boy slowly composed himself and nodded. The girl smiled and slowly cut the thread that held him captive before shooing him away. Chuck smiled, still incredulous, and ran. The way to the drains was very close but he had to run to it while avoiding being seen, which was much more delicate a job. The girl looked at the boy with a small smile.

“Who are you? And why are you doing this?” The voice startled her, almost making her jump.

She slowly turned around and looked into the Asian’s eyes. He had been severely beaten up but he seemed proud as if nothing could hurt him. He straightened up into a correct sitting position to speak to her, their eyes locked. Slowly getting up, she looked down at him, before answering the question.

“My name is Sonya. I came here with Daryl because he’s looking for someone.”

“Newt?” Thomas asked, still whispering. “Your Daryl is the guy that keeps asking for Newt, right?”

“Yeah, he-“

But she was cut off by a scream: someone had seen Chuck running to the sewers and was coming to them since they were the only thing between the Glade and the drains. A boy, a bit older than Thomas or Minho, came running, screaming something to the others. Minho clenched his jaw: Chuck had to get to Maze. It was their only hope for help. Thomas tried to pull on his shackles but they needed to be cut, unless you had superhuman strength. Sonya looked to the boy running to her and swallowed slowly: she was brave, but very conscious of her own abilities and limits. She could slow him down. But she had to bet on Daryl coming back soon.

As the Borrower was almost upon her when she took a stick she had left on the ground and lifted it, giving a hard hit to the boy’s jaw, making him fall on the ground with a cry of pain. Thomas’ eyes widened ad he looked from the guy back to the girl: she was holding a long stick with a massive reddish bowl at the end which seemed to be pretty hard.

“The shuck is that?” He whispered, amazed.

“A strawberry lollipop.” Sonya simply replied, her fingers becoming white as she tightened her grip on it, looking as confident as she could. “Come on guys... I’m no soft touch.”

Her heart was racing. She couldn’t make it. Not a chance. But she could buy enough time for that boy. Chuck... She deeply breathed in, not letting her body show the slightest shiver of fear in front of the guys that were coming closer. She counted eight of them. Against her. She could only bet on the element of surprise: she was a girl with a small frame, they wouldn’t attack all together on the first offense. They were too proud for that. They were boys. But after the first hits, they would lose patience... And she had to offer her best fight: she had only one chance to make a massive break in their attacking squad.

The first boy came closer. He was one of the youngest. An easy target if she was precise, efficient and merciless. But she needed the others to come closer so no clean hit. She stepped back, making the guys laugh as they began calling her names. One of them seemed less patient though: their leader.

“Go and get her. We must go after the small one.”

“Come on, cutie. Come to daddy.” The closer boy smiled.

Sonya waited for the very last second before stepping forward and delivering a hard blow. It was now or never. She used the weight of the lollipop and made it rotate around her, hitting the closer guy and then the second one and the third. She had to be as efficient as possible. The other guys stepped back, frowning as they slowly understood she was a fighter. Four of them were now on the ground, whining in pain as she had broken their jaws or teeth with her lollipop. Maybe it wasn’t that difficult after all, maybe she had overestimated them. A small smile appeared on her face as she stepped forward.

“Watch out!” Minho cried. “Behind you!”

The girl's eyes widened as she tried to turn to see her opponent, but the boy hit her in the back, sending her viciously to the ground. Pain shot through her arms as she landed on them, but she ignored it, shoving her lollipop in the air in the guy's direction. But now he knew the trick and easily stopped her by grabbing the stick. A smile came across his lips and she knew it was over: a violent kick to her stomach chased the air painfully out of her lungs, making her cough.

“Hey! Stop that!” Thomas and Minho exclaimed, almost instantly followed by the other Gladers, helpless.

The boy smirked and turned to his leader who came closer to look down at the girl. He had very fair hair, almost white, cut very short, and his eyes were grey like steel. His shoulders were large but that was not what scared Thomas: it was his expression, totally blank. He tilted his head to the side as he kept looking at the girl.

“You came with that man. Daryl, right?” He didn't wait for any answer, continuing talking with his voice soft but dangerous. “He beat my men to prevent them from catching a group of fugitives. It made me angry.”

He brutally kicked Sonya in the ribcage, making her scream in pain and cough more. Now she was afraid, truly afraid. Her breath shaky, she wanted to flee, but only managed to pull herself away slightly. The man approached again under the watch of his men: many of them had stopped laughing and were looking at each other in uneasiness. Borrowers never found pleasure in beating another Borrower, it was alien. Their leader approached the girl again and put a foot on one of her hands, tearing a whine from the blonde as she clenched her teeth.

“I let you come with us. I had faith in you. A little flower in this band of men... But it seems I overestimated you.”

He suddenly kicked her chin. The Gladers gasped and cried as they saw the girl's head going violently back before she hit the ground again, not moving anymore. Thomas was dumbfounded, muted by horror. Minho, on the contrary, was getting mad, straining against his shackles to try to free himself as he was making furious noises of anger.

“Stop! Or I promise I'll kill you!” He snarled.

“Kill me?” The assailants' leader looked at him as if he couldn't understand the sentence. “Why would you? Because of her? You don't know her.”

And he pushed the girl with his foot, making her roll on her back. Her eyes were closed and her pale chin and cheeks were covered in blood, her reddish blond hair making a halo around her immobile body. Was she alive? Nothing was less certain than that. Thomas was feeling sick, just like the others around him.

The man was still staring at Minho, visibly intrigued by all this rage. He was insane. Totally crazy. And the Asian didn't look  any better right now, his face red and sweaty from his efforts to get free, his eyes like a dangerous creature's, ready to fight. Never had the Gladers seen their leader in such fury. And their assailants' leader didn't help by giving the girl another kick, sending her body a bit farther away.

“STOP IT!!! FOR SHUCK’S SAKE!!!” Thomas exclaimed, his eyes watering.

And Minho broke free.

 

**_To be continued..._ **


	19. Kill to save a life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Extreme circumstances call for extreme measures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! 
> 
> Sorry for the delay. Hobbitcon (SO AWESOME!!!!) last weekend and since I got a promotion at my job, my schedule has changed a bit so from now on I will be more likely to put my new chapters online on mondays or tuesdays. Hope you will like this one which has been a bit tough for me to write but I really wanted it this way. Enjoy!
> 
> EDIT: Already betad!!! Hourray for amazing FifiB!!! *.*
> 
> *********

“Stop it! For shuck’s sake!” Thomas exclaimed, his eyes watering.

And Minho broke free. The thread was torn apart, hanging loosely at his bloody wrists, and he slowly looked up, his eyes fierce and angry, his jaw clenched so tightly he might break his teeth. The Gladers just stopped breathing... And the two men just threw themselves into a violent battle, letting out wild growls and cries. They were more animals than Borrowers. 

The assailants didn't move, not daring to get involved in this crazy fight: they hadn't come here for blood and death. For the first time, they doubted their cause. They had been promised food and treasures and houses and much more... But not this. They hesitated and even if the little group was still galvanised by their leader, most of them clearly didn't know what to think. Thomas tried to take advantage of this.

“Hey! You shucking freaks!” They all looked down at him as he spoke loud and clear. “Is that why you came? To tear us apart? To beat us and then let us die on the ground?”

“We're not killers.” A man mumbled.

“Oh yeah? So aren't you gonna check on her?” Thomas asked, gesturing to Sonya with a movement of his chin. “Your leader hit her, while she was on the ground, helpless and terrorised. IS THAT WHAT YOU SHUCKING BASTARDS DO?!”

“You little shit...!” The man stepped forward but a hand stopped him.

“Don't you dare move.” 

Thomas could only see the dark-skinned hand, but the voice coming from behind the guy was definitely a girl's one. The man had stopped moving, his eyes wide with surprise and panic, trying to look behind but the grip on his arm tightened as the voice came back.

“You move, I kill you. You speak, I kill you. You try to make a sign to any of your friends, I kill you. Now, if you understood, just nod.”

The man did. Thomas couldn't quite believe it, but the four other assailants behind the two Borrowers didn't move to help the guy. More than that: they didn't seem surprised at all by the girl's action or speech. She gave an order to one of them and he came closer to the Gladers, squatting behind them so as not to alarm anyone and began to free them one by one. Another stepped forward to check on Sonya, simply nodding before standing back up. She was alive. Thomas sighed, relieved, and looked as the other girl just managed to keep a man taller than her quiet. The man moved and he could see her: she had dark skin, with her hair cut almost to her scalp, with big dark eyes with long eyelashes and full lips. Her body was thin but you could see muscles dancing under her skin.

She was pretty too in her own way: where Sonya looked fragile, she looked strong and dangerous, her eyes focused and her movements calculated. She didn't look down at Thomas but he knew she was talking to him.

“What are you staring at?”

“Who are you...?” Thomas only asked in return. 

“My name's Harriet. And I happen to like that girl this jackass' friend beaten.” She replied simply.

“I'm Thomas.” The brunette presented himself.

“You won't kill me.” The man suddenly said.

“Didn't I tell you not to talk?” Harriet groaned.

She didn't give the man time to reply, giving him a clean hit to the back of the head and letting him fall on the ground. The Gladers looked at the man, dumbfounded: did she just kill him? Just like that. But Harriet just smirked and helped Thomas up just as he got free.

“Don't look like a frightened shrew. I didn't kill him. Although I could.”

Thomas would have said something but a cry caught his attention: Minho's cry. The Asian let out a scream of pain as the other man was biting his arm, blood running down his chin and on Minho's arm. Thomas didn't think twice, running to his friend to help him but another Borrower stopped him in his tracks with a punch to the face. The other Gladers took it as a sign and hurried with war cries, attacking their assailants with everything they could, even if the strangers were armed and they were not. 

Harriet growled against boys' stupidity and gave orders to her own people, telling them to prepare for fighting and telling Jeff to take care of it. It would be a blood bath, she just hoped that the Maze inhabitants would come quickly: their forces were more or less balanced. But they needed more: they needed advantage. And then she saw him, coming almost unseen, the man that came with Sonya was walking in the shadows of the Glade, his fair eyes piercing into the crowd. He looked like a beast preparing his attack. But what? She followed his glance and frowned: it was difficult to see something behind the battle, to be oblivious to the cries of pain and anger. But then she saw him.

Newt was walking as lightly as he could to the Glade's window. He just had to open it. That was all. His eyes instinctively tried to find his friends and boyfriend, desperately hoping that they were not injured; but he had a mission and forced himself to look away. Reaching the opening mechanism, he grabbed the lever and pulled with all his strength, grunting under the effort. But the lever wasn’t moving. Swearing under his breath, the blonde grit his teeth and tried again and again; his arms and legs were trembling, his once injured one beginning to hurt again. Newt growled and decided to slide himself between the wall and the lever, putting his feet on it, his back against the hard stone, and pushed. A violent pain shot through his leg but he continued pushing. 

“Move... Come on...! Move, you shank...! Move! MOVE!”

He cried loudly as he gave all he had. Many assailants turned their head at the noise and spotted him, one of them pointing at him and shouting orders. Seeing them approaching, Newt just tried harder and harder. Gally and Ben appeared then and split: the Builder, dessert fork in hand, just attacked their opponents, the Runner launching himself on the lever and pulling on it to help his second-in-command. The lever began to move and the two Borrowers, even a bit relieved, cried together as they forced on it, slowly opening the window.  Gally was a good fighter but he was being outnumbered and couldn’t be more glad when Frypan appeared to help him, Clint hurrying to help Newt and Ben. 

“Where’s Aris?!” Ben shouted as they kept trying to open the window.

“I don’t know!” Clint replied. “He disappeared!”

“That was not part of the shucking plan!” The Runner exclaimed.

“Just shut up and pull! It’s moving!” Newt barked, tears of pain running on his cheeks as he kept pushing with his legs.

They needed to open it just a bit more, just a bit.

In the roar of the fights, Minho was short-winded and his back violently meeting the ground didn’t help. His opponent was a fully grown man and visibly much more experienced in fighting, even if the Asian was quite experienced himself it seemed to not be enough. He was slowly losing and he knew it. The pain in his injured arm was stabbing at him and he could barely use it to fight back. The man was calmly walking to him, confident in his own strength, he was like a walking death: never had Minho felt more threatened, even in front of a rat or a cat or any other animal. He could hear his Gladers screaming and fighting and calling for him, it was all he needed right now to keep fighting even if he knew it was hopeless. He had to do it for them. 

“You keep getting on your feet. Every single time.” The other leader murmured. “It’s interesting. Useless, but interesting.”

“Shuck you.” Minho growled, straightening up as much as he could.

“What is it that gave you the stupid idea you could defeat me?” He asked, approaching and looking at him with a cold gaze.

“If you want, I can whisper it in your ear. And then bite you.” The Glader grunted with a smirk.

“It will be a pleasure to lean on your dying body.” His interlocutor gave him a cold smile.

It was not a Borrower thing to kill another Borrower, but Minho was pretty sure that this guy had already done it before. A loud noise followed by screams caught his attention: Alby had just torn off the window as he had finally been able to slide his fingers into the opening. The assailants near Gally and Frypan had stopped fighting and were now looking at Alby and Teresa with wide eyes.

“You're too easily distracted.” Came a cold caressing voice at his ear.

Minho just had the time to turn his gaze to his opponent and received a violent punch to the temple knocking him down. He was feeling like he would throw up, his vision struggling to focus. He heard Thomas' voice calling his name in the sudden silence.

“Get off of him! Now!” Teresa ordered, internally swearing about the window being so small.

In the hurry, they had imagined the window a bit bigger. She couldn't reach the assailants' leader. So she could just buy time for Daryl to reach him first. The leader looked up at the two Big Ones, not at all impressed or so it seemed. 

“And what if I don't?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“We won't give you anything. Let him go.” Alby growled, catching the few assailants in front of him. “Or I'll crush them.”

The Borrowers he caught were now screaming in panic, trying to fight their way out of his grip. But it didn't seem to affect their leader, even the slightest. He even smiled.

“Go on. Do it.”

“What?” Alby was dumbfounded.

“These are your men!” Teresa added.

“Oh, so I should care?” The Borrower laughed. “They came for what they would find. Not because of me. Their fates are not any of my business.”

Teresa and Alby were mortified: the man was truly crazy. And he seemed to think that their facial expressions were particularly hilarious. Daryl emerged from the shadows nearby, behind the man; he was still at twenty centimetres or so when he saw the assailants’ leader take Sonya's lollipop nearby and come to stand over Minho.

“I'm gonna crush your head, little chief. And no matter your Big Ones friends. I ain't afraid of them.” He barked, looking at the two humans. “Of anyone!”

Daryl saw the man raising the weapon in the air and didn't think twice: he hadn't enough time to reach them so he caught a needle and threw it like a spear. The needle viciously sank in the man's shoulder, almost making him lose balance and he looked back to Daryl with evil eyes.

“Damn it!” Daryl winced, seeing the man still able to move.

“NO ONE CAN STOP ME!” He howled as he turned back to the Asian to break his skull.

“MINHO!!!” Teresa cried along with many Gladers.

And then the time stopped, as brutally a piece of cutter blade appeared through the man chest, blood staining his shirt. The assailants' leader blinked, looking at his torso with a stunned expression, before looking over his shoulder. Aris was standing behind him, just in his shadow, his hands tightly gripping a piece of his leader's weapon: a stick with a cutter blade at the end, deeply sunk in the man's back. The boy was short-winded, wide eyed, his hands trembling as he felt the warm carmine liquid pouring on his hands. He seemed so small compared to the man, and yet so deadly. 

A deafening silence was now upon the Glade as everyone was stunned by the scene they were witnessing. The assailants' leader made a strangled noise and groaned.

“Man... I've been stung...”

And he fell on the ground, almost on top of Minho who just pulled himself to his elbows to see one of the Glade's youngest. Aris' name came through his lips, but the boy seemed deaf to it, looking with a horrified expression to the body at his feet. 

“Aris!” Minho called again.

The boy turned away and doubled over to vomit. He had killed someone! Never had any of them seen one Borrower killing another so they were all just staring at the scene, totally stunned. Even Alby and Teresa were dumbfounded: they had never witnessed anything like that. Minho was the first one to recover and forced himself up to come to the sick boy.

“Hey, Aris...” He murmured, putting his hands on the boy's shoulders.

Aris was trembling and when the Asian looked at his face, he saw a lost child, his cheeks covered in tears. Daryl arrived at his side and groaned:

“Take him away.” 

Newt's uncle now faced the crowd. It wasn't over, not yet. And as if to confirm his thought, many assailants began to shout angry cries to galvanise themselves, not accepting their leader's fall.

“Give us the boy!”

“Give up the murderer! He must pay for that!”

“Haven't you got enough?!” Daryl exclaimed. “You came to steal from boys and now you're talking about justice? Well... Once a dick, always a dick, right? So come on and get him.”

Saying those words, he showed them a clove he had picked up around and took the needle out of the corpse's shoulder. He looked like a war veteran and many of the men hesitated. He smiled.

“Come on... The boy got sick but me, I won't even blink at your dead bodies.”

Thomas was looking at him with wide eyes, fascinated by such confidence. Who was that guy? He inhaled and walked toward him, picking up the lollipop on the ground, and faced the assailants. Daryl didn't look at him but he was more than aware of his presence.

“What d'you think you're doing?”

“Didn't think you'd fight alone, did you?” Thomas smirked, even with his heart hammering in his chest.

He had shown more than once that he could be totally oblivious of the danger, but right now Thomas was pretty conscious of it and even with many Gladers now behind them, he could still feel that they were in a right mess. Their assailants did not outnumber them as before since Harriet and her group had joined the Gladers, but they were still dangerous and better armed than them. Not to mention pretty pissed off. One of them seemed to have taken it upon himself to take the lead of their group, galvanising the men by shouting in the Gladers’ direction. Thomas looked around for a second and spotted Newt: the blond was still near the window with Clint, Ben, Alby and Teresa. At least he was safe. Their friends would never let anyone hurt the Gladers. Hey exchanged a glance and he saw Newt calling his name but looked away: he couldn’t get distracted for too long. 

“They are a bunch of children! Even with the traitors at their side!” The guy shouted.

“Traitors to your own race!” Harriet replied with many of her men.

“Don’t excite them.” Frypan whispered to the girl.

“And what? We should just shut up and wait?” The dark-skinned girl raised an eyebrow. “I will stand up and fight with all I have and you’d better do the same.”

“Man, what is it with those girls?” Jeff murmured. “They are all shucking warriors while I’m seriously shitting myself.”

A few of them laughed at that but it was more like forced laughs. They were all stressed. Their assailants were shouting now and then at each sentence of their new leader who looked almost as crazy as his predecessor, and Harriet began to do the same, galvanising her men and the Gladers. The confrontation was coming as surely as Thomas’ heart was pounding furiously in his chest, like the seconds running out before an explosion. 

But then, the roaring of the assailants stopped, suddenly only leaving their leader shouting at the Gladers. Even he found it strange and turned around to see what was happening. And Thomas felt a smile parting his face as relief bathed him: the Maze people had come. Chuck had been able to tell them and convince them to come, Brenda and Jorge at their head. His father had a large hammer in his hands and his mother had a bow, aiming at the assailants’ new leader with a thunderous expression on her face. The group was huge, as if all of Maze had decided to come and help them, to come and protect them. With them, they were now stunningly outnumbering the assailants’ group and many of them didn’t even try to look threatening. The others were hesitating and their leader was shouting at them.

“What are you doing?! We can’t just go without fighting for our honour!”

“What honour are you talking about?” Jorge growled. “You attacked kids.”

“And it will be my very pleasure to give you a piece of my mind, along with this arrow.” Brenda added, pulling on the weapon’s rope a bit more.

Being at the other end of the arrow, the man seemed a lot less brave. He looked down at the corpse at his feet and, with a scowl, he let his weapons fall to the ground and raised his hands in the air. Relief was a weak word to describe the feeling that washed over the Gladers. Cries of victory and joy exploded here and there as everyone was realising how close they had been of a disaster. The few assailants left were tied up and Brenda came to take her son in her arms, hugging him tightly.

“Couldn’t you, just for once, stay out of trouble?”

“I tried.” He laughed lightly. “I promise.”

“BIG ONES!!!” A cry rose in the crowd.

Lots of Borrowers just fled in the direction of the sewers as Thomas realised little by little that they were talking about Alby and Teresa. He laughed and shook his head: the Maze people were not used to them, it was only fair that they were afraid. Brenda laughed too and then saw a man looking at them.

“Who is that?”

“What?” Thomas turned around to look at him. “Oh... Huh, to be honest, I don’t know.” 

“I’m Daryl.” The Borrower answered. “Newt’s uncle.”

“You’re his uncle???” The brunette almost yelled in astonishment.

“Thomas!” A voice he knew well called from afar.

Looking in his direction, Thomas smiled as he saw his boyfriend running to him. His limp was worse than ever and the brunette jogged the distance that separated them to catch him in his arms for a bone-crushing hug. Their hearts were pounding one against the other through their chests, and even if they felt dirty with sweat and blood and dirt, each of them felt comfort in the familiar heat and smell of the other. Thomas slid his fingers into the fair strands of the blonde, and murmured at his ear.

“So good to see you.”

“I was afraid that you were...” Newt didn’t finish his sentence, swallowing with difficulty.

“I’m not.” Thomas smiled, slightly pulling back to look at him in the eyes. “I’ll die with you.”

“So cheesy.” The blonde smirked.

“Your leg...” The brunette whispered.

“I’ll be fine.” Newt smiled, confident. “I just put a bit too much force on it.”

“All right, everyone.” Teresa called from the window. “All the injured ones come to me. I’m gonna have a look at you.”

“Where’s Minho?” Thomas asked his boyfriend.

“He’s with Aris...” The blonde sighed. “Aris is disturbed... He killed someone.”

“He had to do something!” The brunette frowned.

“Yeah, and I agree with you.” Newt nodded. “But for him, in his head, it’s as if a tornado has passed through his brain.”

The Gladers took their wounded ones to Teresa who managed to put them in a bag so she could carry them to the clinic where she should soon have her shift. The teenagers would have quite a lot of work to repair their Glade again, but right now, they were just thanking what was left of the Maze people, the ones who hadn’t fled at the sight of the Big Ones. The adults were more than willing to help them and informed them that they would take the assailants with them and see what would be decided with all the Borrowers living around. The death sentence was something Borrowers would have never imagined, but it was clear that they couldn’t let them go unpunished. 

Many adults stayed to help with the work and were pretty amazed by all the teenagers could do: Maze people almost never came to the Glade and the Gladers never stayed more than a few hours in Maze. Thomas smiled as the two groups seemed pleased to chat and work together. Gally was the one who seemed the most reserved, which wasn’t a surprise in itself, but the brunette spotted a man who stopped in front of the Builder and spoke a few words to him.

“Who’s that?” He asked the blonde.

“Who?” Newt looked to the man Thomas pointed at. “Oh... I guess it’s his father.”

“Gally’s father?” Thomas raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah... Once he told me that he didn’t get along with his dad and decided to move to the Glade like... Three or four years ago.” The second-in-command shrugged. “His father is a Builder too, I think.”

Thomas nodded slowly, watching as the two men were talking, exchanging only a few words. There was no doubt that they were related when seeing their clumsy way of communicating. Apparently it had beenyears since the last time they’d talked but Gally’s father was gesturing to the different buildings of the Glade, clearly asking questions, and Gally simply smiled a small smile before nodding. The man gave him athumbs up and Thomas smiled: he’d like to imagine that the man was congratulating the Glader for his amazing work. He looked back at his parents and spotted Daryl.

“Oh, man. I’d forgotten your uncle.”

“Yeah... I guess we have a lot to discuss.” Newt smiled slightly, looking at his relative.

Daryl nodded ad give him a sly smile before looking back to Brenda who seemed to have already started her interrogation, much to her husband’s amusement. Thomas inhaled deeply and murmured:

“Teresa and Alby are taking care of everyone... I should help the others to repair the Glade.”

“Yeah. I’m gonna come with you.” Newt agreed.

“What? Man, no. Come on, your uncle is here. You have a lot to talk about! Plus, I’m not gonna let you help with that leg of yours.” The brunette groaned.

“Tommy. I’m not a five year old. And my uncle will stay here for a bit I guess.” The blonde opposed. “I’m not disabled.”

“Newt... Don’t make me break your other leg, please.” Thomas sighed.

“You are really beginning to sound like Minho.” Newt mumbled. 

They laughed and the brunette took him in his arms again, hugging him tightly. The blonde smiled at that and hugged back: he really had imagined the worst in the past few hours, and his brain could not quite manage to deal with his uncle’s presence. He was tired and excited at the same time, he wanted to talk for hours but also just lay and rest. Daryl looked at them and smiled slightly before looking at Jorge and Brenda.

“I’m sticking around for a bit.”

“Your nephew will be pleased to know that.” Brenda smiled.

“He’s a good kid.” Jorge agreed.

“Your kid seems to be quite a good one too.” Daryl replied. 

“Of course he is.” The woman groaned, making the two men laugh. “Do you have a place to stay?”

“No. But I’m gonna find one. Don’t need much.” The man shrugged.

“You can stay at our place.” Brenda offered. “We have a flat in Maze, with two rooms. Thomas lives here now so we have a spare bed.”

“It is very nice of you but I’m not alone.” Daryl murmured. “I came with a girl. ‘bout your son’s age. She’s been beaten. I’m waiting for the Big One to come back with her…”

“Don’t worry.” Thomas’ mother smiled. “We also struggled with the Big Ones thing but... Our kids managed to find good ones. They are friends actually.”

“Hope you’re right.” Newt’s uncle sighed, not very willing to trust the Big Ones.

“I am.” Brenda smiled and then looked protectively at the two boys still whispering to each other, exchanging a kiss before Thomas left his boyfriend in order to help rebuild the Glade. 

Thankfully, there was less damage this time than when Janson had come and literally destroyed the Glade. Brenda and Jorge decided to help the boys and Daryl would probably have done so too if a hand hadn’t grab his arm: Newt had stopped him and hesitated, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he found the right words.

“Uncle Daryl... Since I’m kind of grounded... Could we just... Talk... A bit?”

The man looked at him, quite surprised, and then a small smile pulled on his lips and he nodded, following his nephew a few inches behind so they could talk in peace. Thomas threw them a glance and smiled, happy that his boyfriend had found his family, after all these years during which he had felt so alone. But somehow, a part of him was worried: what if the blonde decided to leave the Glade? What if they wanted to try to go back in England? He turned away to help Gally with a heavy heart.

 

**_To be continued…_ **


	20. Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas is feeling left apart. Newt can't guess and feels pushed away.  
> Aris is a mess, but no one would let him down. Especially not Minho.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, 
> 
> We're coming to an end with this story. Not inspired anymore... I feel a bit like it should maybe have ended a bit sooner but I couldn't let them! X) A bit paradoxal, I know. 
> 
> I tried to do it as smoothly as I could, since I wanted a bit to write about everyone.  
> Not everyone ends up well but I tried. :-)
> 
> Hope you will like it.
> 
>  
> 
> EDIT: BETAD! ^^ Many thanks to Fifib that helped me a lot in that great adventure! <3
> 
> *****

Thomas sighed and got up. It was late, the night had already fallen a few hours ago, but Newt hadn't come to bed. He was with his uncle, near the window, as always. Thomas couldn't say much: the blonde had just found his uncle again, they obviously had a lot to catch up on. But, selfishly, the brunette felt left out. He sighed as he left the room andcaught a glimpse of the two men near the window, Newt visibly talking a lot whilst gesturing animatedly and Daryl was listening, smoking his cigarette (something Thomas had never heard of, but the man smoked one every now and then). Scowling, Thomas decided to head for the workshop. Maybe he should join the Runners night team: their numbers had increased since Harriet and her group had decided to stay after long talks with Minho and Newt. After all, the blonde probably wouldn’t notice it at all. Thomas winced and shook his head: he was being stupid and unfair, he knew it, but he couldn't help feeling bitter about it.

Walking through the camp, he caught sight of the hammocks: most of the Gladers in there were in a deep sleep, the dying campfire casting an orangey light over them. At the edge of the structure, leant against one of the pillars, Thomas spotted his leader. Minho was resting against the pillar, a body on him. Aris hadn't been able to sleep alone at night since the big confrontation: he would just wake up suddenly screaming and crying, totally lost. To prevent it and to be sure that the boy got enough sleep, Minho would now siton the floor, his back against a pillar, and take the boy against him, between his legs, and let him talk until he fell asleep. Aris seemed to sleep better in the cocoon of the Asian's arms: maybe he felt protected, as if nothing could ever hurt him, his head resting against Minho's chest and letting his heartbeat lull him. The Asian opened his eyes and looked at him before looking up at Thomas and giving him a small nod.

Minho had had tough times since the confrontation too: he felt tired most of the time since the healing process required all his energy: he had quite a few internal injuries but thankfully nothing that put his life in danger. He just needed rest but he was quite stubborn and kept honouring his role as leader, even with Newt taking a lot of the work. Harriet had helped a lot with that since she was still leading her own group; not that she didn't accept Minho's leadership but because her people always went to her.

Thomas gave his leader a small smile and a little wave before heading to the workshop. Gally was still working, not because he had to but just for the leisure of it: he liked manual work. His eyes didn't leave what he was doing when the brunette approached and sat nearby on a chair but he acknowledged his presence nonetheless.

“Can't sleep, shank?”

“Not really.” Thomas sighed. “Can I help with something?”

“There's a chair to fix, if you want.” The Builder shrugged.

The brunette nodded and took said chair, inspecting the problem. He would never be a Builder like Gally but he began to have a few notions about it. It was the fifth night since the confrontation. The fourth one in the workshop though: they weren't the best definition of friends but the two of them were kinder one to another, in a way. They spoke a bit in general about everything: Thomas had even been surprised when Gally had agreed to talk about his father. They hadn't got along very well: they were stubborn and easilyangered. They yelled at each other most of the time and the Gally’s mother disappearing hadn't helped, quite the opposite in fact. One day, after a violent fight, Gally had takenhis things and had headed to the Glade he had heard of. Minho had met him first and Gally's personality had made him wonder if he could really be useful; but Newt had comealong and gladly welcomed him. The blond had seen the Builder he could be just thanks to the few tools he carried with him. If it wasn't for the second-in-command, Gally wouldn't be a Glader.

Thomas sighed as the blonde's name always came up in the conversation. And the Builder’d had quite enough of their shit: he put his work down and looked up at Thomas.

“Have you guys talked about this?”

“What? No.” The brunette shook his head. “If he even comes back, it's in the wee hours. He's asleep when I go to the Men Land.”

“Well, if you don't tell him, he can't guess. Even if he's very observant.” Gally shrugged.

“But I don't wanna make him feel bad: I know I'm being unfair. He hasn't seen his uncle for eight years. I can't be so selfish.” The Runner sighed.

“If you feel bad, then it's not nothing. But if you don't wanna talk with him about it, then don't complain.” The Builder deadpanned. “It's up to you to untangle this situation.”

Thomas looked at him but didn't reply: the man's words made sense, but he didn't see how he could say any of this to the blonde. He didn't want to hurt him by being selfish or childish, which he thought he was. He sighed and worked in silence, just appreciating the Builder's presence.

He stayed two hours there, keeping his mind occupied, before thanking Gally for his hospitality and heading back to the room he shared with Newt. The second-in-command was asleep, resting in a foetal position, tearing a small smile from the brunette who slid into bed too.

********

Newt woke up with the sun. Very little light came into their room. His eyes opened to see the peaceful face of a sleeping Thomas. He smiled, not daring to wake him up and just stayed a few minutes like this, enjoying the sight and the soft warmness of their bed. But he was second-in-command and couldn't just lay lazily in bed, so he got up as lightly as he could with his clumsy leg and went out to take a shower. The morning was always one of his favourite moments of the day: looking as the Glade was slowly waking up in the shy light. He entered the shower, thanking the few improvements the Builders had brought to it: the plastic walls were now black so no one could watch from the exterior, and they had built a water tank out of a can that could be heated by a fire under it so they could have warm water at any time of the day.

He closed his eyes under the warm caress and sighed, looking down at his legs. His injured one had kind of healed but it was still painful sometimes and Newt really didn't like the sight of the long scar running from his ankle to a bit above his knee. It was as if it tried to remind him that he was not that good at helping others. He always tried his best, but maybe wasn't it enough...? He shook his head to chase away the dark thoughts and just washed himself: he was second-in-command, he was not allowed to have such dark thoughts. He swaddled himself into a towel and walked back to his room, leaving his clothes for today’s sloppers. As he arrived at the door, it was swung open, making him jump at his boyfriend’s sight.

“Tommy...! You almost gave me a heart attack here.” He sighed and then noticed that he was ready for the day. “Where are you going?”

“Running.” The brunette shrugged, since it seemed obvious. “Ben told us that he had found quite interesting things but that he might need some help to carry them.”

“Oh, right.” Newt nodded slowly, frowning slightly. “But... Weren’t you supposed to rest for today?”

“Well, we are more numerous since Harriet and her people decided to stay. We need more than before so... I’ll just help, I guess. See you later.”

And with that, Thomas just left a small kiss on his boyfriend’s temple and ran to the passage. Newt’s gaze followed him and his hands tightened on his towel: he had thought that they could have spent the day together since they hadn’t had time for themselves since the confrontation. He sighed and went in his room to dress himself before going into the Glade. As always, Frypan had a plate for him and gave it to him with a slight frown:

“Hey, mate... What’s the matter? You don’t look well.”

“Oh... It’s nothing, Fry, don’t worry. It’s just...”

But before Newt could say more, his throat tightened and his voice broke a little. He bit his bottom lip and shook his head, giving a smile to the cook. But Frypan didn’t seem to want to let go and just called someone in the kitchen: he had a few Borrowers working with him now that the Gladers were a bigger group. He gave a few orders and took a slice of strawberry and a piece of chocolate, smiling at his second-in-command.

“Let’s talk about this, okay?”

Newt sighed slightly and smiled at the dark-skinned boy: Frypan was certainly one of the kindest souls in the Glade. He followed him to the cork-benches and sat there with his plate, eating slowly since he wasn’t very hungry. His friend didn’t push him to talk and just waited, looking at him with worry. The blonde wasn’t really the talkative type: most of the time, he preferred to keep his problems to himself and just lock them in his mind for his lonely moments. But that simple question, asking if he was alright, had just been enough to almost make him cry. Why? He wasn’t the teary type either. He sighed and didn’t look up as he spoke:

“I think that Tommy is angry at me...”

“Well, it happens sometimes.” Frypan shrugged. “Couples fight.”

“We didn’t fight.” Newt murmured.

“Maybe he is tired and hasn’t slept enough?” The cook offered.

“No...” The blonde shook his head. “He looks more like he is avoiding me.”

“Thomas? Avoiding you?” Frypan raised an eyebrow as the idea seemed totally incongruous.

“Yeah...” Newt sighed, defeated. “Today, he wasn’t supposed to run in the Men Land. And we could have had a bit of time for us... But he just decided to run.”

The second-in-command made an exasperated sound: since when has he needed someone’s company that much? Since when did he think terms of “us”? He bit slightly more viciously into his meal as he felt angry at himself: he wasn’t the dependant type, for shuck sake! But a part of him simply murmured to him the brunette’s name. He shook his head.

“It’s eating me alive, Fry... I feel weak and dependent and I bloody don’t want to.”

“I’m sure there’s an explanation for that: Thomas is just smitten with you. Maybe there is some misunderstanding between you two. A word, a gesture... You should talk together, mate.” The dark-skinned Borrower stated.

“But when, Fry?” Newt let out, exasperated. “I have my second-in-command duties, I try to have some time with my uncle too ‘cuz we have so much to catch up on, I have meetings with Minho and Harriet and then all together with the Builders to see what can be done or improved in the Glade... And I’m only a Borrower, Fry, I need to eat and shower and sleep... We barely see each other... And today when we could, he just ran into the Men Land.”

Frypan sighed slightly, not liking to see his friend so down. He threw an arm around the blonde’s shoulders and hugged him. It wasn’t much but it seemed to comfort him a bit. The cook gave the strawberry slice and the chocolate to Newt, making him chuckle, and murmured:

“I’m sure you guys will figure this out. Don’t worry. Just act normal until you see him and then you just corner him.”

“Corner him?” The blonde repeated. “I’m not trying to start a war here, you know? I had enough fights for a lifetime.”

“I know, but I kind of know Thomas as well: when there’s something that hurt him and he doesn’t understand it, he just runs away. I’m not saying he’s a coward, no. It’s just a normal reaction: you run when it hurts.”

“Am I hurting him?” Newt asked, looking at Frypan.

“Maybe. Maybe not. You can’t know without asking him.” The dark-skinned boy shrugged. “Now go. You have work to do and so do I.”

Newt nodded and, before Frypan was too far away to hear him, he thanked him. The cook was right: he couldn’t just sit there and wait for the answer to his problems to show up. He got on his feet and went to the Hammocks area to see his best friend: Minho was leaning against a pillar of the structure, visibly asleep. His features were hollow and he seemed older and tired. Newt bit his bottom lip and looked around to see if he could spot Aris. The boy was almost a ghost: he didn’t speak to anyone except to Minho but most of his talks didn’t mean anything. They were first worried that the boy had lost his mind but although he didn’t talk, he acted quite normally. He sighed and put a cover on his sleeping friend before going through the Glade.

Aris was wandering through the Glade, not really knowing where he could head. He didn’t really care. His mind was kind of a blur. He had nightmares almost every time he tried to sleep and didn’t really know what day it was anymore, what time, or if he was even awake. He felt tired and restless. A light caught his attention like a beacon in the night: it was just the sun on a supper spoon. But it had caught his attention. He walked to it and leant in: his face appeared in the reflection. His complexion was ghostly pale, making the shadows under his eyes even more visible and his hair had grown into a dark mess. He stayed a few minutes looking at himself: so that was what a murderer looked like... His fingers caressed the face of his reflection. He looked sick.

“Aris?”

His name. Someone was calling him. He looked up and his eyes found the chubby boy from the Storage area. Chuck. He seemed so innocent, so bright... Aris shook his head and looked down. He must be lost in some nightmare again: one of his friends will stand in front of him and then suddenly, there would be a lot of blood everywhere, on the ground, on his clothes and on his hands. And he would know that he’d be the one that killed them. A hand slightly touched his shoulder and he jumped back, trying to put as many distance he could between them, almost smacking himself in the wall.

“Aris! Aris, calm down. It’s just me. Just Chuck. Alright?”

Of course he knew! He shook his head again and slid his fingers through his hair, grabbing his skull and pressing it with all his strength. Maybe if it was painful enough, he would wake up. Maybe he wouldn’t see another of his friends dead in front of him. It was painful. His fingers digging into his head made him whine and he just curled up against the wall. He wanted to wake up. He wanted it so badly.

“Aris...” Chuck felt so sorry for the boy.

They were the youngest in the Glade. And even if the two of them hadn’t been the greatest friends, he felt so bad for him. He wished he could calm him like Minho could. Minho’s voice seemed to be enough for the boy to hold on to. But the Asian wasn’t around right now and he couldn’t just leave the boy like that. He slowly put a knee on the ground and very carefully touched Aris’ sickly pale skin. Aris jumped a little and whined, curling up a bit more. It was like he was trying to protect himself from something terrifying. Slowly, trying not to scare him even more, Chuck slowly put his arms around him just like he had seen Minho do it.

“It’s okay, Aris... No one is gonna hurt you. Minho isn’t here but I am. Just look at me...”

The trembling boy didn’t answer. He never answered anyway. But after a few seconds, he very slowly looked up. His eyes were howling his internal fear. But he was there, conscious. Chuck gave him the brightest smile he could and murmured:

“It’s alright. Do you wanna eat something? Minho would be very glad you did.”

Minho. The name echoed at his ear. Aris felt a bit reassured and slowly nodded. He didn’t really know yet if he was still asleep or not, but every time Minho was around, nothing bad happened. So if Chuck talked about Minho, it must be alright. He let the other boy hug him and help him to his feet. Chuck hadn’t always been a good friend. Not that Aris disliked the kid, no. But he couldn’t quite read into his sarcasm and more than once, the boy had been hurt by his words. So this must definitely be a dream, right? There was no way Chuck would come to him and smile like that. Especially not after what had happened. He wouldn’t take his hand and lead him so kindly to Frypan’s kitchen. But he followed him nonetheless.

The smell coming from the kitchen was incredible. How dreams could be so real, he’d always wondered. But his stomach made a loud sound, screaming his hunger. It wouldn’t help to eat in a dream but, for once, it wasn’t a nightmare. So he just followed Chuck and looked around. It was just like the Glade itself. It was incredible. He almost felt athome. Except that he wouldn’t feel at home in the real Glade. They would be looking at him. Staring. He was a murderer. A killer.

Frypan was looking at him. But he just seemed surprised and worried. He gave them food and Aris could just feel his mouth watering. He was so hungry! He didn’t even wait for Chuck, beginning to eat with his fingers. It tasted so good! It was like Frypan’s real cooking. He missed it so much. He couldn’t even quite remember when he last ate.

“Where did you find him?” The cook asked the curly haired boy.

“Nearby.” Chuck answered. “He seemed lost and… Very scared when he saw me...”

“Did he say anything?” Frypan asked.

“No, he won’t talk to me.” The young boy shrugged. “He won’t talk to anyone but Minho.”

“Poor kid.”

They looked at Aris as the boy ate, totally oblivious to their talking. At least he was eating. Well, devouring was more accurate. Newt appeared by their side, breathless. Spotting the one he was looking for, he sighed slightly and smiled:

“I was wondering where he had gone. I found Minho sleeping by his own.”

“Do you think he will get better?” Chuck asked.

“I don’t know.” The blonde whispered. “It’s a first for us... Alby told me that humans had specialists for that. They call them psychotherapists. But I don’t think that term even exists for us.”

“I don’t even understand the word.” Frypan groaned.

“Basically, it’s someone who studies how people act and by talking with someone ill, they can say what the problem is and how to cure it.” Newt shrugged. “At least, it’s what I understood.”

“Maybe we could just create a job like that?” The youngest offered.

“Alby said you must study for years to be able to become a psychotherapist.” The blonde sighed.

“How do you even study what you must listen for in people’s words to know if they are ill?” Frypan raised an eyebrow. “It seems like a big joke to me.”

“I have no idea.” Newt shook his head.

“Guess the one who invented that was a bit ill in his head too.” The dark-skinned boy smiled.

Aris was still in his bubble, gobbling up his food, when he suddenly felt a painful burn and let go of the plate. They all looked at him as the plate fell on the ground with a loud noise. Aris was frozen: it hurt. He had burnt his fingers with the food. But if it burnt... Then it was real... Realisation hit him like a truck and he looked up to the Gladers around with wide eyes. It was all real...! They were looking at him. Staring! They knew! They knew what he had done! They knew everything!!

Tears burnt his eyes as he grabbed his head and let himself fall to his knees, howling a mix of fear, terror, helplessness, hurt and despair. The others jumped at the sudden burst of sound and the feelings it carried. Many stepped back, afraid without really knowing why, others like Chuck stared at Aris with wide eyes, tears rolling down their cheeks as the scream hit them and shook their souls. Newt just kneeled near the screaming boy, trying to calm him.

“Aris! Aris, look at me! It’s alright. Everything is fine. I promise!”

But the boy kept howling like he was in mental agony. Everyone in the Glade could hear him. Newt decided to take the boy in his arms and hold him tight, not minding the scratches as the youngest was fighting his way out of the embrace. It hurt, but he didn’t let go, murmuring instead against the boy’s ear with a steady voice:

“Shhhh... Aris. I’m here. I’m here, mate. It’s me. I got you. I got you. Minho is coming for you. Don’t worry. Everything is gonna be alright. I promise.”

The boy fought for a few seconds but eventually the scream died in a strangled whine. Newt had always had this ability to shush everyone’s fear and pain but his own. He looked up as Minho appeared at his side and he gave him a small smile before giving him Aris. The boy stilled in the Asian’s embrace and then muttered incomprehensible words. Minho slowly cradled him before taking him in his arms in order to get up.

“I’m taking him back to the hammocks.”

“Okay.” Newt only agreed in a low voice.

“Thanks.” His leader whispered as he got away.

The blonde smiled sadly as he watched his friend taking the boy away. In a way, he had felt useful, but in another, he was just incredibly sad for Aris. The poor boy was lost and they didn’t know how to help him. At least he had eaten a bit today. Newt now tired as if the boy had taken all his strength. He could still hear his screams in his mind. Was that what Aris had in his head all the time? This deafening fear? This profound despair?

“Newt!” A voice he knew well called him.

Looking above his shoulder, the blonde saw Thomas running to him. How could he be here when he was supposed to go to the Men Land? Or had Aris’ scream gone through the entire building? He didn’t know. All he knew was that the brunette was now holding him tight, his short breath in his neck. And it felt just fine. He smiled and put his hands on his boyfriend’s arms.

“It’s okay... Minho took Aris. He’s fine.”

“What about you? You’re bleeding!” Thomas exclaimed.

Newt looked startled and then saw the multiple scratches Aris’ nails had dig in his arms. He could also feel those on his ribs and on his jaw. But he simply smiled and shook his head.

“I’m alright, Tommy.”

“I’m taking you to Jeff and Clint.” Thomas announced.

His voice was full of authority. He wouldn’t let go. And that was just fine for Newt. He nodded and got up, marveling at the way brunette that could just turn his world upside down and sighed.

“You’re not mad at me anymore?”

“I still am. But it doesn’t matter now.” The Runner took his hand and lead him through the Glade.

“I wanna talk.” Newt said.

“Me too.” Thomas mumbled. “I should have listened to Gally and Ben long ago.”

“Gally and Ben?” The blonde repeated, surprised.

“Yeah... I kind of went to them to complain and they both kind of told me that I should talk to you or just shut up.” The brunette heavily sighed.

“What did you complain about?” Newt asked, blinking.

“That you were always away. Always so busy. Even with your uncle.” Thomas didn’t look at him, visibly ashamed. “I’m sorry... It looks like I’m kind of more selfish and jealous than I thought.”

So that was the problem. Thomas had felt left out because he had spent a lot of time busy with everyone’s life but his. Well, perhaps it was a bit selfish, but perhaps Newt alsohadn’t been there for the right person. A small smile pulled on his lips and his fingers interlaced with the brunette’s.

“So don’t let me go.” He whispered.

“Newt... I’m not gonna make a prisoner of you.” Thomas stopped walking and finally looked back at him.

“I know you won’t.” The blonde shrugged with one shoulder. “I haven’t seen my uncle for years... But he’s not going anywhere now... So I might as well listen to my other needs.”

“Which is?” But Thomas smiled slightly as his boyfriend leant in.

“You like me to say embarrassing things, huh? Spending time with you, shank.” Newt murmured against his lips. “Let’s take a break, together... I wanna go upstairs. See a movie with you... Or just walk outside... Just the two of us.”

“And the others?” The brunette asked. “What if they need you?”

“They are big boys. They can stand a few hours without me.” The blonde assured. “That’s what they always tell me... For years I’ve heard that I’m not selfish enough. Now I want to be.”

“Okay...” Thomas smiled, feeling an intense joy. “But first, you’re gonna pay a visit to Jeff and Clint.”

“Urgh! You like to kill the bloody mood, don’t you, shucking bugger?” Newt growled.

But they laughed as they walked to the infirmary, fingers tightly intertwined. Their lives would always be quite restless, but they were Borrowers. They were born to live like that, even if they seemed to be much more than an average Borrower. But even in the torturous lives they had, they knew how to see the bright side of things: new Borrowers had come to the Glade with Harriet and were now Gladers; they were friends with Big Ones, which was unthinkable for many of their race, and perhaps it was only them but it seemed that Alby and Teresa had become much closer since they had become friends with the Borrowers and were now linked like no one could be. Maybe they would become more than friends one day. Who knew? It had bothered Minho a bit, even if he hadn’t had a lot of time to think about it, but he busied himself with Aris, taking care of him and hoping that the boy would get better. Harriet had become a huge part of the leadership of the Glade but she always referred to Minho, getting very close to him in a strange way: Newt and Thomas couldn’t really tell if she just respected him or if there was something else... But with their temper, if they got together, it would probably end up like a firework: they would probably yell at each other a lot... And angry Harriet was not a perspective Newt wished for his best friend. But he knew that the dark-skinned girl could also be very patient and kind: she had shown it many times by taking care of Sonya who had come back to the Glade but was just lying on her bed. She didn’t talk, didn’t move, even with her eyes. It was like she wasn’t there. Daryl took care of her most of the time, spending long hours at her side. She was like a daughter to him and sometimes it was really hard for the man, but his nephew would help and talk with him. Comfort him.

No, it wasn’t an easy life, not at all. But it was their life. They were survivors, fighters and with a will no one could blow. But most of all, they were alive. And together. It was sappy, but Newt couldn’t help it: Thomas had become a huge part of his world, not all of it, thankfully, but a great part of it. And he had to admit that he was more than pleased to know that it was the same for Thomas. They thought about each other most of the time but they could perfectly stay apart for hours and work on their own. And even if it was shucking bloody sappy and all: they could bear just about anything if they were together.

 

**THE END.**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you everyone and thank you very much for your kind comments and to have lived all that with me and with the wee ones. I hope to see you again if I write something else.


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